


Not Your Prey

by LadyAnatares



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swapfell, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Female Reader, I blame tyranttortoise for this entirely, I can't not write him as a big flirty sinner though, Nora is fabulous, Prophetic Dreams, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader in this is basically me in real life, Reader is Demisexual, Reader wants all the babies, Reader-Insert, Shamelessly self-indulgent, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Tarot, but give it time, it seems like Mutt and me would make a terrible match, kinksame-ing?, kinkshaming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-02-03 14:39:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 35,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12750330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAnatares/pseuds/LadyAnatares
Summary: Because I can't not keep starting new fics on here XDInspired by this exchange on Tumblr (and by an actual dream I had), where Mutt from SSLL moves in to my place and pays his rent through doing work around my house. The flirty skeleton keeps making passes at his new landlord (narrated as you), but she's a bit more Determined than he'd counted on.





	1. The Skeleton.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tyrant_Tortoise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrant_Tortoise/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Skeleton Squatters and the Landlady](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9816140) by [Tyrant_Tortoise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrant_Tortoise/pseuds/Tyrant_Tortoise). 



“’m just lookin’ fer a place to stay fer a while,” he drawls.

“Yeah, man! Totally. We just need to check with the landlord if it’s alright, and then you can stay on the couch if you want!”

“thanks. ‘preciate it. so, when can i meet this landlord o’ yours?”

“Actually she’s probably still asleep upstairs. I can go get her, if you want.”

… _She?_

“no need. i’ll go introduce myself.”

 

* * *

“Nora, I _SWEAR_ to _GOD_ , if you _wake me up_ AGAIN you’re going to be _fabulous_ ALL DAY.”

You throw the sheets off yourself and glare grumpily at the small black dog. She’s cowering at the corner of the bed at the mention of being fabulous, ears back flat and her small brown eyes sorrowful. Sighing, you press the palm of one hand to your eye, the headache from not getting enough sleep settling in to make this a long, _long_ day.

And what the heck was up with that _dream?_

As you stretch and sit up, Nora starts prancing up and down with her front paws on the mattress, letting out another telling whine that she needs to go outside for her morning routine. “Give me a second,” you insist, standing from the bed to find something to wear. You grab the nearest semblance of an outfit from the scattered clothes around your room – thick pajama pants that you know will be comfy and warm, soft mismatched socks, and a heavy hoodie that will help disguise the fact that you don’t want to put a bra on just yet today. Just the basics of what you’ll need to let Nora do her business outside.

As soon as you’re ready and approach the dog on the bed, she stands up against you hopefully as you scoop her up in your arm. Unlocking the door, you swing it open to head downstairs and reluctantly start your day.

Or, you _would_ , if someone wasn’t standing in your way.

Nora immediately wiggles from her resting place against your shoulder to reach out for an exploratory sniff. Your mind’s in a daze as you visually inspect the stranger in your house. He’s at least a head taller than you, his arm resting idly against the upper part of the doorframe to your bedroom, upper body clad in a thick orange sweater under a heavy black coat with a tawny fur collar. An _actual_ collar hangs from his neck you notice, orange in colour with contrasting studs. His pants are tightly fitted black jeans, although he still has a belt to hold them on his narrow hips, and he’s wearing heavy brown combat boots on his feet. An unlit black cig hangs loosely from his mouth, adjacent to a sharp golden tooth in the place of his original upper left canine.

Oh, and probably the most notable thing about him? He’s a skeleton. A skeleton monster.

You internally groan. So _this_ is how today’s going to start.

Orange eyelights roam your figure as he brings his other hand up to pluck the cigarette from his mouth. “like what ya see, darlin’?” he rasps breathily down at you.

… It is _seriously_ too early for this. “Sorry, I need to get by you. Nora needs to do her thing outside,” you explain, shrugging.

“’course. cute dog,” he murmurs, giving her neck a scratch before stepping out of the way.

“Thanks.”

Nora’s eyes follow the stranger as you pass by him, shaking your head as you descend down the stairs. Just a freaky coincidence today, nothing more.

 

* * *

“Hey, did you meet Mutt?”

One of your tenants approaches you as you’re frying yourself some eggs and bacon for breakfast. Without turning around, you quirk a brow at the question. “Is that the guy that was upstairs this morning?” He seriously lets people call him Mutt? Well, that might help to explain the dog collar around his neck. “I guess so,” you resolve to answer.

“Yeah, nice guy eh?”

“Sure, he seems alright.”

“Listen – So, we were thinkin’ that, if you don’t mind, he could crash on the couch for a while until he gets his stuff sorted out. Is that cool with you?”

Damnit, is _that_ what that was about? You don’t exactly have room for another person in the house right now. Sure, there’s your office in the basement that you’ve been thinking about converting into another room rental space, but it’s still full of your crap and you don’t have anywhere else you can keep the rabbit right now.

You hear heavy boots against the tile kitchen floor behind you, and turn slightly to see Mutt standing there next to your tenant. That cig in his mouth persists, hanging limply clutched between his sharp teeth, though it’s still mercifully unlit.

“sorry for intrudin’, i just need somewhere t’ hang while i work out a place of my own,” he rasps, shrugging with his hands in his pockets.

“Starting when and for how long?” you ask. That sounded a bit harsh, but before you can make any kind of decision, you need the details. Besides, maybe you can work with this. Another renter wouldn’t be too bad.

“startin’ as early as you’ll have me darlin’, and for as long as ya can stand me.”

Well. _That’s_ indecisive and almost useless. You groan as you turn back to your eggs, flipping them over.

“i don’t take up much space if that’s what yer worried ‘bout,” he continues, clearly sensing your irritation. “you got a shed out back, yeah? all my stuff’d fit int’ that, easy.”

You roll your eyes. “You can’t live in a _shed_ ,” you retort. “Least of all _that_ one.”

“why not? ‘m used to tight spaces,” he chuckles.

Was that innuendo? It’s too damn early for this.

You shake your head. “No, I mean – well, besides general principle that people shouldn’t live in garden sheds, that one is a few years late on having its roof shingles replaced,” you explain more thoroughly, still talking with your back to him. “The plywood underneath is rotting out because of it, so the whole roof will have to be re-done. Also, there are holes in the siding that go right through, so mice go in there from time to time, and I think the floor’s even collapsed in the corner. Furthermore, the door lock is rusted out and on the outside, so you can’t even secure it from theft or lock it shut for privacy when you’re inside. I want to have the whole thing either torn out and replaced or fixed up, but either way I can’t afford a contractor to work on it right now.”

“so,” he hums thoughtfully. “the reason you’re refusin’ is mainly because it needs fixin’ up?”

“That’s only _one_ of the reasons I just said.”

“well, maybe i can make ya a deal, darlin’.”

A deal?

“if i fix ‘er up, will y’rent it to me?”

_What?_

You turn to scowl at him. “Didn’t I just say that people shouldn’t live in garden sheds?”

“i keep insistin’ i don’t mind, and i don’t want t’ intrude too much. you’ll barely know i’m there.”

“Well, I can’t ask you to work on it. There’s just too much to do, and if I had to replace the whole thing then I don’t know how it’ll work out power-wise.”

“… it has power run out to it?”

“Yeah – one of the previous owners set that up. There’s a light fixture and a couple of working power outlets.” You gesture with your spatula to the lightswitch panel by the patio door. “That second switch controls the power to it. There’s a cable that runs diagonally across the yard that’s buried shallowly. It’s kind of a hacked together mess.”

“… darlin’, i’d be _honoured_ t’ fix it up for ya,” the skeleton drawls.

Why is he so insistent on living in a _shed?_

“i’ll bring my tools by t’morrow, an’ see what i can do with it.”

At this point you’re just tired of fighting with him over it. “ _Fine,_ ” you finally agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For context on the fabulous thing, refer to my Twitter ([specifically this tweet here](https://twitter.com/Anatares/status/829450935827062788)). Whenever my dog is excessively noisy or otherwise misbehaving, I punish her by making her wear these cute little dog shirts, and I call this 'making her fabulous' XD So whenever I ask her in the story "Do you want to be fabulous?", imagine that in a threatening/accusatory tone for all the ridiculousness that that entails XD


	2. The Shed.

It took him two days to gut the shed and rebuild it to his specifications.

First off, the roof’s never looked better. The black shingles practically shine from their newness and they’re tiled perfectly against one another. You saw him take off the old plywood boards underneath the first day, so you know those have been replaced too. He’d even gutted the outside walls, replacing the white vinyl siding that was falling off with solid pine boards to make it look more like a log cabin. At first you had to stop him from spraying some sealant stuff to treat the wood in the yard, due to the fact that you don’t want chemicals on your lawn so your rabbit can safely graze, but he was alright with your rambling explanation and had taken them off the property to treat them. But with that done, the boards are beautifully stained, as well as fire-resistant _and_ waterproof.

The old door was completely gone, replaced with a sturdy door like you’d find on the front of a house, which he’d painted a striking burnt orange. Two golden keyed locks dot the outside, so he must’ve built up the frame of the thin shed to support drilling the holes for them. He’s set out a couple of patio stones, which you permitted, to firm up the ground directly ahead of the door, so it almost looks like a house in its own right.

You know he’s done a number on the inside of it, too, judging from how often he was in and out of there on the second day. He’d even built a small lean-to on the one side of it, a blue tarp sloped over the stuff that used to be in the shed proper – some tires left behind by your ex, a portable firepit, and some garden tools you had tucked away in there.

You continue gawking at the transformation in just two days, letting the dog run around the yard.

… Would it be rude to go say hi?

Admittedly, you’re curious about what he’s done to the inside of it. You decide to chance it, slipping into your beat-up running shoes and grabbing a sweater to wear over your pajamas. You need to grab the rake anyway to clean up the yard.

Crunching across the leaves filling the backyard, your dog chases your ankles as you knock on the door of the converted shed.

“c’mon in,” a deep voice rasps at you.

Sighing, you turn the doorknob to find it surprisingly unlocked. Nora bolts in past you in a race to investigate first.

Your first instinct is to look up. The light fixture is still there, but the bulb has been removed, and lighting the small space in the place of it is a string of simple white Christmas lights strung around the upper walls and along the ceiling supports. To the one side you see that he’s kept the waist-height workbench mostly intact, with a few reinforced supports underneath of it, and on the opposite side he’s put in shallow shelves a foot deep, next to a simple pantry cupboard with twin doors that’s shut at the moment. Straight ahead of you, he’s built a platform three feet off the ground that extends the entire width of the back of the shed, which he’s now stretched out on with what looks like a very thick and heavy comforter.

No, wait… Is that a _dog bed??_

“well darlin’, whaddaya think?” he invites, puffing on a black cigarette. His jacket’s hanging on a hook by the door with his boots placed upright underneath it, so he’s just got on a loose black muscle shirt and no socks. Nora’s already climbed on his chest and is alternating between sniffing him, his lit cigarette, and the bed he’s lying on.

It _does_ reek of smoke in here, though it’s vaguely sweet, reminding you of incense. You quickly dismiss going over the fact that you don’t like smoke, figuring that if he’s going to rebuild your entire shed in two days, _maybe_ you can let this pass. At least it’s not inside the house.

“… Do you think you’re going to be warm enough out here in the winter?” you have to ask. Fall’s just about done as the trees have gone bare and temperatures have dipped below freezing overnight.

He closes a fist and rolls slightly to knock on the wall next to him. “i insulated every side. the roof, too,” he explains.

“Yeah, but you don’t have heat,” you highlight.

“got a plan ‘r two in the works for that.” He takes a quick puff of his cig and you grimace as the smoke rolls out of him a moment later. He quirks a bony brow at that, then immediately puts it out in a nearby ashtray. “first possibility is a space heater. there’re more ‘n enough sockets to have one tucked away somewhere. another one is, well, you usin’ that firepit out there?”

“Not really, no. With that big cherry tree in the way there’s no safe place in the yard to put it,” you explain. “But! You can’t burn something in a tiny wood shed like this. Nevermind the fire, the smoke alone will kill you first.”

“knew you’d say somethin’ about that,” he chuckles. Sitting up slightly he reaches in between the rafters, hitting some sort of concealed lever. In response, a portion of the roof shifts open. You can see it’s grated over to prevent insects or wildlife from getting in that way, but it’ll let air in and smoke out no problem.

“Hmm,” you hum. “I’m still going to have to nix the firepit idea, but if you could use that while you’re smoking in here, I’d really appreciate it,” you negotiate.

“sounds jus’ fine, darlin’. so i can stay then, yeah?”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I guess. You’ve earned a few months’ rent with this, I think. But, you’re going to be using power, clearly, and I’m assuming you’re going to want to come inside to shower and use the kitchen from time to time, so I _will_ need at least a hundred from you a month in order to cover consumption. Other than that, the shed is yours.”

He nods his head understandingly. “any other work that needs doin’?”

 _Tons_ , you think. “Are you really comfortable staying on a dog bed?” you redirect.

“yeah, i’s comfy. why, wanna try it out?” he grins.

“Absolutely _not_.”

He shifts to lie on his side almost against the wall behind him, propped up on one elbow and throwing you a smouldering look. “there’s plenty o’ room for two,” he purrs, patting the open dog bed next to him.

Nora seizes the opportunity to curl up right next to him instead, head low and submissive as she sniffs and alternatively snorts playfully at the new tenant, little nub of a tail wiggling excitedly back and forth. You chuckle warmly at the sight. “Seems like there’s two there already,” you observe. “Okay Nora, that’s enough now.”

Nora sits up with her ears at attention as she looks at you, then she sneezes.

“ _Bless you_!” you grin at the silly dog. “Come on, Nora. Let’s go inside now.”

The dog sneezes once more, but stays right where she is. You roll your eyes and walk over to grab her. She cowers with her ears flat a little bit, but makes little fuss about you picking her up in your arms. Scratching her neck as she rests her head on your shoulder, you wave awkwardly at your new tenant as you head for the door.

“Oh,” you pause, turning back to him. “One of the guys is making a chicken for dinner tonight, and I’ll probably be making some side dishes to go with it. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like. We try to cook together when we’re all at home,” you explain with a shrug.

“sounds good, darlin’. i’ll join you for dinner,” he winks.


	3. The Kids.

When he gets into the house a couple hours later, it’s in utter chaos.

He easily dodges two children running by, one chasing the other with a plastic rifle in hand, too distracted by their game to notice the tall monster they’d just about crashed in to. The chaser is laughing and making machinegun fire noises, and the chasee is fake screaming as they take the stairs on all fours. There’s a projector with a video game playing on the wall adjacent to the stairs, the human tenants talking loudly as one of them works a controller playing a video game with a lot of explosions. A beat later and there’s a loud clatter and ensuing giggle from the kitchen, followed by a gasp by you.

About the only person who greets him amidst the insanity is Nora, who has hopped up on the arm of the couch, waggling her tail and whimpering for him to come closer so she can greet him.

“’ey there li’l doggy,” he murmurs, chuckling as he reaches out his hand for a pat.

Instead of staying still, the dog stands on the back of his hand and stretches out her body as far as she can, ears back flat as she licks the air trying to kiss him. The monster smirks.

“… a’right, jus’ hope these bones aren’t _too_ much to your liking,” he grins.

The dog makes little protest about being picked up and carried by him, still excitedly wagging her tail as she licks his face all over. He idly greets the human tenants as he passes through the projector’s light on the way to the kitchen.

“ _No no no!_ Oh… _Pfft_ , oh dear,” you laugh.

There’s a pot on the stove boiling over, a wastebasket of crushed soda cans upturned on the floor, and you’re nowhere to be found.

Until you reappear from the bathroom with another kid gripped in your arms. This one looks the youngest of the three he’s seen so far.

“Those don’t go in the _toilet!_ ” you scold playfully.

The tot blows bubbles at you and giggles in response.

Mutt crooks a brow.

The dog in his arms suddenly squirms at the sight of the squirt, so Mutt kneels down to let her go around the same time you set the kid back on his feet. Nora stands up against them to lick their face, and they squeal like it’s the best thing in the world. Hoping that the little one is now distracted by the dog, you turn back into the small bathroom, rescuing a couple bottles from the toilet bowl with a light sigh.

“didn’ know ya had kids,” he remarks behind you.

“Oh- I don’t,” you turn and smile at him, setting some dripping creams back onto the nearby shelf. “They’re my tenants’ kids. Everyone comes over on the weekends like this, and the cousins all play together. Well, except _that_ one, who likes to grab on to everything in sight.” You nod at the empty space behind him as you turn on the faucet to wash your hands. “ _Please_ tell me he didn’t get into the cans again?”

Mutt glances over, then takes a shortcut a moment later to carefully remove a crushed soda can from the kid’s hands.

You peer out from the bathroom, arching a brow at his sudden disappearance. Finishing with drying your hands after washing them, you head back over to the stove to rescue the pot from the burner, then you walk over to grab the kid. “Thanks,” you tell him.

He gives you a lazy shrug of acknowledgement.

You head over to the livingroom and set him down on the sofa nestled between the other two adults. They immediately apologize for getting distracted by their conversation and the game, one of them wrangling the squirt onto his lap. You just smile broadly and tell them it’s no problem.

As you walk back into the kitchen, he can tell there’s something different about you today. Your smiles are genuine and blindingly bright, you don’t look as tired or exasperated as usual, and yet you’re running around and seemingly doing a lot more than what he’s come to recognize as your norm. There’s a clear bounce in your step and you haven’t even rolled your eyes at him once in the last five minutes.

You’re just… _Glowing_. And he can’t tear his eyes away from it.

You take control of the pots on the stove, turning off the heat for the one that boiled over while simultaneously stirring another.

He walks up behind you, reaching to brush your hair aside.

“those look a li’l too _hot_ to _handle_ , darlin’-“

As soon as he gets in close enough to purr in your ear, you sidestep away.

“Did you need something?”

The iciness of that scowl could shatter a lesser monster’s soul on sight. In Mutt’s case he’s just grateful he hasn’t lost HP in the exchange. But he takes a couple steps back, just to be safe.

“Oh, right,” you say, digging into a pocket of your pajama pants. “Here.”

You palm something in your hand, and make an exaggeratedly slow show of tossing it to him underhanded, then release it. He easily catches the metal key.

“Figured you ought to have access to the house if you’re living here,” you explain. “Also, I’m almost done with the rental agreement, so I can bring that by for you to read tomorrow morning.”

“sounds good.”

“What name should I put down for you?”

“jus’ mutt is alright.”

You frown and shake your head. “No, it’s a contract. I need your legal name.”

He shifts his weight to his other foot, leaning against the counter as he mulls it over. “… rus,” he rumbles out hesitantly. “y’can call me rus.”

“Is that short for Russell?” you ask, quirking a brow at him.

“no, it’s short for papyrus.”

You blink as you take a second to digest the information, then just shrug. “Is there a surname to go with that?”

“not typically,” he chuckles.

“… Well, alright then,” you shrug uncertainly. “These are almost ready, so can you do me a favour and tell the guys that dinner’s almost ready?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I constantly worry that I'm not portraying Mutt's character accurately enough, so I tend towards writing him as quite tame. Maybe I'll figure him out soon though XD
> 
> This chapter is based on true events that happened here a few weeks ago now. The kids are left ungendered/unnamed/pretty dang ambiguous in order to protect their identities, of course. Also, there is a chance that my tenants might read this at some point :P


	4. The Dinner.

Despite having a makeshift diningroom setup (a plastic folding table covered with a long tablecloth surrounded with folding chairs), you’ve never really used it for anything other than a place to drop clutter from time to time. A space was cleared to set out all the food of course, but no one was seated at the table for their meal. Instead, everyone is gathering in the livingroom to eat.

You spy that the corner of the long sectional is unoccupied, so you seize the opportunity to stretch out your legs and head over to it. Nora’s been at your heels since you picked a plate up, so as soon as you’re stretched out, she hops up to sit on your legs, watching you carve at your chicken with a fork and knife with intent. She whines impatiently a little bit, but makes no move to steal anything from your plate – she knows better than to do it while you’re looking.

Your two human tenants are seated not far from you, with the three kids gathered on the floor around the coffee table, and Paw Patrol playing on the projector for background noise. Your new monster tenant steps in from the back patio door since finishing his smoke, grabbing a plate of his own and loading it up. You cringe as Russ walks around the kitchen floor with his boots still on, dirt and melting snow sliding off them and getting everywhere. At one point he opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of barbecue sauce. You can’t fault him for that – the chicken _is_ a little bland on taste tonight.

Conversation with your tenants comes easily. They haven’t lived here that long yet, just over a week or so, and you know enough about them to know that they’ve both got good jobs. They’re just down on their luck financially right now, and you can’t exactly fault them for that. If you weren’t in the same boat, you might not have decided to rent your house out to strangers like this. They’re very nice and friendly though, telling you that they’ll help out with the cleaning chores and driving you to get groceries, which is very much appreciated.

During the conversation, the kids disperse as they finish what they felt like eating off their plates, chasing each other as they resume their game from earlier. Russ sees an opportunity and slides onto the couch right next to you, mimicking your posture and stretching his legs out so his dirty boots rest on the edge of the coffee table. You grumble and sit up, disrupting Nora’s begging, and grab the knees of each leg of his pants to lift them off the table. He takes the hint and lets his feet flatten against the floor instead, but he slouches back into the couch as if trying to take up as much space as possible.

“No boots on the table. _Seriously_ ,” you hiss. Russ just smirks at you. You roll your eyes.

“Say, what’s going to happen if you get a boyfriend?” one of your tenants asks you, having observed the interaction between you and Russ. “What if he doesn’t like you living with guys? Are we going to have to move out or something?”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” you dismiss. “I’m not going to get a boyfriend.”

Russ had a forkful of food just in front of his mouth, but you notice a very brief pause at your words before he eats it. It’s not shock or disappointment that crosses his bony features, just something contemplative.

“Why do you say that? You don’t know what could happen,” he presses.

“Trust me, I know. I’m not interested in dating and I’m not going to date ever again.”

“Oh come on,” the other insists. “You’re still young! I’m sure you’ll find some-.”

“Let me stop you _right there_ ,” you hold up a hand, cutting him off. “You don’t have all the information. Look, you guys know what ‘asexual’ means, right?”

They look at each other before one of them turns back to you and nods.

“Well,” you continue your explanation. “I’m not asexual, but I’m like… Halfway there? I’m demisexual.”

“What does ‘demisexual’ mean?”

“It means that, at least for _me_ , unless I have an emotional connection with a guy and _really_ get to know him first, I’m not attracted to him. I can judge people aesthetically, like ‘hey that guy’s kind of cute’, but there’s no actual _attraction_ there unless I spend a _lot_ of time with him and build that emotional bond that I need to feel attracted to him.”

They take a moment to digest the information before you continue.

“So, yeah. That’s basically it – I have absolutely no plans on spending a lot of time with any guys, so no dating for me,” you shrug. “So, you guys don’t need to worry about that ever. It’s not happening, end of story.”

Besides, even if you _did_ decide to pursue a relationship, why would you give any control over your life to a new boyfriend? … Whatever. It’s not like you get out much anyways, so your opportunities for meeting new people are next to none.

While you slip Nora a small piece of chicken for her to snack on and then return to eating your own meal, Russ pops open the cap on the barbecue sauce he grabbed earlier and inverts it over his open mouth, squeezing a sizeable amount directly into whatever serves as a skeleton’s gullet. The guys opposite him on the couch just stare at him, then at you while you continue to ambivalently carve at your food. Noticing eyes on you, you finish chewing and look up.

“What? Did you do that to get some sort of reaction out of me?” you quirk a brow at them and Russ. “’Cause if so, [there’s a video that I now have to show you.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEc4NnNoH6Y)”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the reasons why I started this fic was so that I could share some of the obscure nerd shit I'm into XD
> 
> Apologies again, Russ doesn't really have any dialogue here, but he'll have a lot more participation in the chapters to come :P I'm still just establishing stuff right now.
> 
> (Also look at that I finally updated something, first chapter of 2018 XD)


	5. The Couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for some fluff? Because boy howdy do I have some fluff for you XD

“ _Did you miss me!?_ ”

A small, sleepy dark head looks up at you from a bunched up red blanket on the couch. Nora flashes a mouth full of pearly white, sharp teeth as she yawns, letting out a small tired squeak as she completes it and her mouth snaps back shut. She then slowly pulls herself from her spot, stretching her back out as she does, to then sit on the arm of the couch. Her butt wiggles back and forth impatiently as she waits for you to come greet her.

You smile broadly and pick up the needy dog, who stands against you to allow you to do so. She settles in comfortably against your shoulder as you hook an arm underneath her, warm from her snooze you woke her from and yawning adorably once more. She turns briefly to lick your face, but then she looks ahead waiting for you to carry her over to the back door. That’s her nightly ritual, after all; she waits on the couch for you to greet you when you get home from work, then she needs to go outside to do her business.

Baby-talking her further in a hushed whisper, you set her down and slide open the back patio door. She launches out into the dark as you click on the light over the deck.

Nora sees something shift in the dark, and she starts barking.

 ** _Shit_**.

“ _NORA!_ ” you call out, but the startled dog keeps making a lot of noise.

It is _far_ too late at night for this. She’s going to wake up the neighbourhood at this rate, and then you’re going to find another nasty note on your door. You sigh.

After a few seconds of frantically shining a laser pointer out at her, then tapping a treat against the doorframe and calling her name, she still doesn’t stop. Whatever’s got her attention, she just isn’t letting up. It probably wasn’t even anything more than a tree branch moving in the wind.

You jog back to the front door and grab your boots, heading back to the patio door to slide them on before stepping outside and hopping down the steps. A frigid wind hits you as soon as you’re out in the shallow snow and fallen leaves, and you’re grateful you haven’t taken off your jacket yet as you clutch it closed across your chest. You can just see Nora in the dark – the small black dog is at the fence at the back of the yard near the shed, still carrying on at some imagined threat.

“ _NORA_ ,” you bark authoritatively, and the dog _finally_ looks up at you and cowers. You grumble at her as you scoop her up in your arm again, thankful she didn’t dash away as if you were playing a game this time.

As you walk past the shed though, the door opens.

“everythin’ ‘lright?” Russ asks you. He’s in a loose black tank top and some tattered jeans, the dog collar still ever-present around his neck. His boots are on but the laces are untied.

“Shit, sorry. She must have woke you,” you apologize, deflated. You’d actually just about forgotten that the skeleton was living out here.

He leans an arm high on the doorframe and chuckles. “it ain’t a problem, darlin’. just glad everythin’s-“

“You’re _freezing!_ ” you gasp, interrupting him.

His cracked eye socket quirks up in faint surprise. His breath is visible in the late fall cold, but there’s more to it than that – actual _ice crystals_ are clinging to his face around his nasal passage, and you spy some more on his shoulders from the reflection of the lights glowing in the open shed doorway behind him. Russ looks down at himself and smirks.

“… I _knew_ it was a bad idea to let you live in a shed! You don’t have any heat in there, and winter is just around the corner,” you grumble at yourself. Then you wave your free arm in a broad, inviting motion. “Let’s get you in the house, I’ll set you up on the couch.”

Russ seems to be mulling over your sudden hospitality. Then he chuckles. “don’t worry ‘bout me darlin’, skeletons don’t mind the col-“

“This isn’t up for debate,” you demand sourly, grabbing the front of his shirt with your available hand. “You’re sleeping on the couch for the forseeable future so you don’t catch hypothermia. What’s _with_ you?” How could he neglect himself like that?

He looks down at your hand on him, then shrugs. “well, if th’ lady insists.”

 

* * *

You set a mug of milk down in the microwave with a slight clatter, slamming the door shut and setting the timer for two minutes. Russ stretches his long body on the corner sectional, features dimly lit by his own orange eyelights, and an oil warmer on the end table across the room from him producing a soft, turquoise glow. You’d managed to get him to take his boots off at least, but his socks must be old, as they’re light grey with dirty soles and giant holes ripped into the worn heels. Nora has hopped up onto the cushions to sniff him, curling up at his feet with a sleepy yawn.

“y’know,” he drawls in that deep voice of his, eye sockets half-lidded (how?) as he regards you from his relaxed position. “if y’ wanted t’ _warm me up_ , darlin’,” he pats the couch next to him. “i’ve an _idea_ ‘r two on-“

Before he can finish his thought, you grab a folded blanket from the back of the couch near him, unfolding it quickly and throwing it over his body. He doesn’t make a move to accept or reject it, letting it fall over his body seeming at a loss for words. Nora perks up, then crawls onto the blanket and stretches out. Turning away to the kitchen again, you grab a huge tin of hot chocolate mix from the pantry and a spoon as the microwave finishes warming the milk.

“Do you like honey in your hot chocolate?” you ask absently.

He makes a disgusted face in the dark. “i’ll pass.”

“Alright. I’d offer barbecue sauce, but the vinegar would curdle the milk,” you shrug.

Your deadpan delivery catches him by surprise, and he rumbles with a chuckle only when you turn your head slightly to smirk at him.

“y’always home this late?” he asks idly.

The microwave clock in front of you reads twelve after midnight. “Just on nights I close, and only if there’s something that sets me back. If it’s busy or if there’s a late delivery, it means I have to hang back to finish cleaning or wait for my driver to get back.”

“not sure you’ve told me where you work,” Russ points out.

“Oh, I work at a pizza place near here,” you tell him, straightening out your uniform shirt. The logo’s on the back, but it’s still got small pizza sauce stains speckled across the front of it. “I must not have mentioned it to you before. My bad.”

“ah.”

“Speaking of which, if you ever see leftover pizza in the fridge, by all means help yourself,” you offer idly. The microwave finishes and you immediately fetch the steaming mug within. Spooning a couple generous helpings of the cocoa mix into it, you start to stir. “I get a free personal pizza if I work more than five hours, which is every day that I work, and I almost never finish it. So, _someone_ might as well have it.”

He chuckles, acknowledging your offer with a soft grunt.

You finish with the hot chocolate and carefully pick up the mug, carrying it over to the coffee table next to Russ. “Here you are,” you announce to him, then look up at your dog. ”Nora, bed time.”

She huffs and her ears go flat. She doesn’t want to leave the comfy spot she’s arranged on top of Russ’ blanket between his knees, but you don’t exactly want to leave her down here, either. If you lock her out of the bedroom she’ll just come upstairs an hour later and whine until you let her in, and you have enough trouble sleeping at night.

Sighing, you scoop Nora up in your arms, resting her against your shoulder. She’s pretty tired, so she lets you grab her without any further fuss.

“Well, good night,” you awkwardly wave at him.

Long, slender fingers grasp your available hand just as you turn away. His phalanges are hard and rough as if calloused, but warm, and his grip is loose enough that you could pull away easily. Still, your gaze whips around to scowl at him, waiting to see what he wants _this_ time.

“not gunna tuck me in, darlin’?” he teases.

“Nope,” you bite off flatly.

“then, how ‘bout a good night kiss?” he waggles his brow bones at you.

Geez, does he want a _bedtime story, too??_ Sure you’ve been doting on him, but that’s _only_ because he let himself _freeze_ out there in the shed.

You consider it for a moment, just because it might be funny to kiss his forehead like a child’s, but then you decide that the safest move is to just walk away. He’s been relentlessly trying to flirt with you since the day he showed up, and you don’t want to do anything that might even _remotely_ be considered as leading him on.

Your hand drops from his and you shake your head as you head for the stairs, climbing them briskly in the dark. A pair of faint orange eyelights follow your figure as you leave, then rest on the warm mug on the table next to him.

“… hm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always been the mom friend, lol. Russ TF u doin not taking care of yourself here take my aggressive affection XD


	6. The Ticket.

“You _WON_ the _LOTTERY!?_ ”

Your tenants are gathered in the kitchen with you on a Saturday morning. You’d been cooking yourself some fried eggs and bacon for breakfast while Russ sat idly at the table drinking his barbecue sauce when your two human tenants share the incredible news.

“WE WON THE _LOTTERY!!_ ” one echoes back at you.

“Technically, we didn’t win the jackpot,” the other clarifies. “But we got the next prize down, which is still a lot of money.”

“Oh my _g-_ I can’t- I can’t believe this right now,” you stammer out, in complete shock. “I’m really happy for you guys, though! What are you going to do with it?”

“We were thinking about buying a house now that we can afford it,” one guy beams.

“So you’re moving out?”

You snap your mouth shut as soon as the words leave you. You’re not upset with them, and they’re not responsible for your welfare, but them up and leaving so soon does complicate things for you financially. That just leaves Russ renting a shed that’s too cold for him to stay in for a hundred a month. He did buy a space heater, but you’ve insisted that he just come inside and sleep on the couch ever since.

“Well,” your tenant stumbles. “I mean, since we _can_ , we want to.”

“This is going to fix all my debt,” the other one chimes in. “And I’ve always wanted to have a place of my own.”

“Forget what I said, I’m sorry,” you backpedal. “You’re allowed to go buy yourselves houses any time you like. Let me know when your last day here is, and I’ll get you your deposits back before then.”

One of them laughs. “ _Keep_ it.”

You frown. “I’m not really supposed to.”

“It’s not a lot of money compared to what we just won – call it a gift,” your tenant insists.

If you kept their rental deposits it _would_ mean you’d have more time to find new tenants for your spare bedrooms upstairs. “… Alright,” you reluctantly agree. “That will help me out a lot, thank you very much.”

He whoops and grabs you suddenly in a hug. _Oof_. Okay, so this is what we’re doing now? You chuckle and pat his back awkwardly. When was the last time you even _had_ a hug? It’s not totally unwelcome, just not something you were expecting.

They start talking with each other as they make plans to claim their prize money, heading out of the room distracted by their conversation. You cross your arms over your front as you lose yourself in thought. Maybe they’ll hang around a bit longer as they wait for the money to clear and spend their time house hunting… You should wait to post an ad for the rooms until they give you their move-out date.

“yer eggs ‘r burnin’, darlin’,” Russ’ deep voice interrupts your thoughts.

“ _Fuck_ ,” you curse, whipping around and attacking them with a spatula. “Thanks.”

“y’ might’ve been able to ask ‘em for more,” he rumbles behind you.

“That wouldn’t be appropriate,” you dismiss. “It’s their money, I’m not entitled to a cent.”

“ain’t about entitlement. they’re clearly in a givin’ mood, an’ you’ve got bills t’ pay o’ your own,” he highlights.

You shake your head with a sigh. You can’t do it. Not only would it be _highly_ inappropriate of you to ask them for some money _just because_ of their recent windfall, you also hate the idea of being treated with charity. You have your job, your writing, and those two spare rooms to rent out. That’s all honest income, and enough to cover all of your expenses.

“They can do whatever they want with their money, but other than rent and those deposits they insisted I keep, I won’t be asking them for anything more.”

“you can be a _li’l_ more greedy than that, darlin’. aren’t y’ jealous?”

“Oh, _absolutely_ ,” you breathe.

You could fix your _life_ with that money. You could pay off your house, your debt, get a few wanted renovations done, quit your job and live off of the remainder. Your expenses _are_ pretty frugal when you’re just on your own, and it would be nice to just live and relax for a while not having to worry about anything.

“But I’m not going to bother them about their money,” you finish. Then you turn slightly towards him as you plate up your overdone bacon and eggs. “Tell you what, though – If you know anybody interested in renting a room, tell them to hit me up, alright?”

Russ is done his sauce and absently bobbing an unlit cigarette in his teeth, gently rolling it. He rumbles in amusement at your offer. “i’ll keep ‘t in mind.”

 

* * *

They packed up and moved out way faster than you would have liked.

There were some tearful goodbyes between you and the kids, but your former tenants suggested they might like to visit you and Nora from time to time. It’s doubtful that they actually will, but it’s nice to think about.

The house is just so _empty_ now.

Russ helped with the heavy lifting while you supplied pizza and conversation, but after the truck left you needed a moment to yourself. Nora curled up in your lap as soon as you sat on your bed for some video games, your back to your open bedroom door.

You don’t need to turn around to know that Russ is standing there watching you.

“You need anything?” you ask, not turning around.

“… y’ doin’ alright, darlin’?”

“Fine.”

“if y’ need th’ cash, _i_ can rent the rooms,” he offers.

This causes you to spin around in shock. “What? _Why?_ ”

“y’ just seem concerned, is’all,” he shrugs.

You shake your head, annoyed by his charity. “You’ve already rebuilt the shed and converted it into a living space for yourself, plus I’ve already posted an ad online for them. Don’t worry about it, I can take care of it.”

Realizing that last part could come off as defensive, your expression sours into a scowl.

His orange eye lights scan you thoughtfully for a moment, before he shrugs his broad bony shoulders. “a’right,” he relents.

Then he heads downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely and totally jinxed myself with this chapter. As I was initially writing this like a month ago, _BOTH_ of my tenants suddenly gave me notice. They didn't win the lottery like I suggest here (that was just my initial plan to write them out of the story amicably, so there would be no possible offences made since they might actually read this at some point), but other circumstances required that they both leave, soo yeah. This became difficult for me to wrap up because of that, hence the unexpected feels at the end, but after all the chaos that's ensued since I've got one of the rooms rented out and people looking at the other every day basically @.@; So that's been my life the past few weeks.
> 
> Next chapter will hopefully come sooner, and be a bit more fun XD


	7. The Bed.

“This isn’t going to work out.”

“why not?”

“What do you _mean, ‘why not’?_ It _should_ be pretty obvious!”

“listen, darlin’. i’ve ‘ad worse.”

“It’s not _about_ that! It’s common _sense!_ ”

“i don’t see a problem wit’ it.”

“I can _only_ see problems with it!”

“then, darlin’, why don’ya tell me what they are?”

“For starters, you’re like _seven feet tall!_ ”

He chuckles as you gesture wildly with your arms at him, attempting to indicate his entire person. “so?”

“ _So??_ So you _can’t_ sleep on this couch,” you assert, folding your arms across your chest authoritatively.

He stretches out to his full length, then folds his hands behind his head as he leans back into the reclined seat just to further fuel your ire. The couch he’d been crashing on had belonged to the tenants, and they had taken it with them in the move. Your couch, which is a brown faux leather and has reclining seats on either end, just didn’t quite suit his long body. His head and neck didn’t even meet the cushion at his back and his feet stretch out past the end of the footrest and onto the floor.

“i said i’ll manage,” he gently insists.

“Russ, you’re going to screw up your neck and back,” you refuse.

He’s been watching you intently since he moved in, of course, and he’s almost at the point where he can say he’s got you all figured out. You have this aggression about you that comes out when he presses certain buttons, particularly when he does something that makes you concerned over him. He’s not sure _why_ you’d care about his neck, not that he has one beyond the already cracked vertebrae being a skeleton and all, but that’s just another one of the things he enjoys about you. You’re a puzzle he wants to solve.

Just then Nora jumps up onto the couch with all the dexterity of the furry little missile she is, attacking one of her squeaky toys at his side and dragging it onto his lap with playful growls to entice him to fight her for it. “well,” he sighs, grabbing the toy and squeaking it, earning more snorts and growls from the playful dog. “nora’s on my lap now, so guess ‘m not goin’ nowhere tonight.”

You groan and pick up the chihuahua in your arms, much to her displeasure as she continues squeaking the toy hanging from her mouth.

“What if you lay on it, y’know, length-wise?” you suggest.

He grins as he tucks the footrest back into the front of his seat, then shifts to lay along the length of the couch. His neck is at an even worse angle now, and he could almost bend his knees and let his feet hang with how far they dangle off the opposite side.

“… Yeah, that’s not going to work either. You need a _bed_ , Russ.”

“i have a bed,” he casually reminds you.

“An _actual_ bed, not a dog bed,” you correct, rolling your eyes.

Your features light up as you get an idea. “One second,” you say, holding up a hand as if to either shush him or to press pause the conversation. Then you turn and walk upstairs. Curious, he follows.

You open one of the other bedrooms on the second floor, then groan at its lack of contents.

“It figures,” you sigh. Sensing him behind you, you turn slightly and explain. “One of the guys was borrowing a twin mattress from me, but he must’ve forgot and they took it with them. That was my only spare.”

His next favourite thing about you, is how you respond to his playful advances.

“well,” he shrugs. “if th’ couch isn’ good enough, an’ there’s no spare bed, then i guess i’ll jus’ have to move into your bedroom.”

The follow-up glare causes him to smirk down at you in a brazen challenge. Not only were you stubbornly against ever pursuing another relationship again (for reasons he suspected, but that you hadn’t come out and said just yet), but between that, and the act of announcing your demisexuality and how it prohibited any genuine attraction, both told him that you feel you’re pretty well off-limits when it comes to any kind of relationship. In response to his flirting you usually roll your eyes and scowl deeply at him, trying to get the point across with every ounce of ferocity you can muster.

But that’s not you this time.

Your features had darkened as usual, just for a moment. Then your gaze shifted to look past him, staring off into space thoughtfully. Your expression shifts to one of discomfort, then neutral, then resigned acceptance. You hold up a hand, asking him to wait.

“Give me a second,” you say, and then head for the door to your own bedroom.

He chuckles. Are you actually going to do it?

Nora hops down from your arms as he hears you shuffling about. Mutt heads to the doorway to lean against the doorframe, watching you as you kick fabric bins out of the way and clear the bed of a laptop computer and packages of half-eaten snacks. There are a couple bras hanging on the door of a nightstand that’s stuck open, which you grab and throw into the open closet out of sight as you blush. After spending a minute tidying up, you pull the bi-fold doors on the closet shut and turn to him.

“It occurs to me that my mattress is supposed to help with bad backs,” you explain, folding your arms together. “So, fuck it, I guess you can crash here until I can afford to get a new twin mattress for my other bedframe.”

He’s not sure what to say. Does he dig the hole deeper by antagonizing you with further flirting? Or does he try to play it cool?

As he’s caught in mild indecision, you seem to take his silence as a prompt to continue. “I will warn you though, I am _miserable_ to sleep next to. I have random wakeups through the night, I sometimes talk in my sleep, and there’s been at least one instance of me punching the person next to me while completely passed out.”

Mutt laughs. “none of that’s a problem, darlin’. if you get feisty i know a shortcut outta bed that won’t wake ya.”

You glance over at your dog on the bed, already pulling at blankets to form a pile in the centre for her to sleep on. “Oh, and while I’m a blanket thief, Nora, as you can see, is a hundred times _worse_.”

“i tend to hog ‘em m’self,” he admits. “it’s likely to end up in a ball with me, so might be an issue if we have to share.”

He crooks a brow at you to see if you caught the innuendo. You shake your head and pull out an unseen drawer from the bottom of the bedframe. “We’re not sharing,” you tell him firmly, withdrawing another comforter. “You’ll get your own blanket.”

You throw it at him and he catches it. It’s black with green zeroes and ones printed all over it.

You turn towards the closet and pull it open briefly to pull some clothes from a set of cube shelves near the bottom, exposing a hanging fabric organizer stuffed with your various bras. You slam it shut with some comfy clothes draped over your arm, then nod towards the door.

“I’m going to go get changed,” you announce.

While you’ve shut yourself into the bathroom, Mutt stretches out on the bed and surveys what he can see of the room. Even with your frantic clean-up, there are still bins on the floor full of either snacks or half-finished knitting projects, as well as open cardboard boxes with various papers spilling out. In the corner adjacent to the door is a small desk with your only TV and a couple of older gaming consoles. A couple of well-loved games sit on top of them still in their cases, along with a DVD box set you must be in the middle of watching.

The door swings open and Nora perks up from her blanket nest as you re-enter. Mutt smirks as he pats the open mattress at his side.

“comin’ to join me, darlin’?” he invites teasingly.

You flash him a scowl before fetching a long pillow from the floor, shoving it in his way to run down the middle of the bed.

“This is the line,” you warn. “Do NOT cross it.”

He shrugs his understanding as you wrestle the blankets away from a snoozing dog. Nora grumbles tiredly at your dismantling of her nest.

Once that’s done, you head over to turn off the light, then make your way back in the darkness to climb under the covers opposite him and the pillow you blocked him off with. He shuts his eye sockets as you mess around with your phone, plugging it in to the charger and setting it on the table next to you for the night.

_… Crack._

Cric _-crack, snap, snap, CRACK._

Mutt’s sockets fly open.

“darlin’?”

“What?”

“is it you makin’ that noise?”

“Yeah, sorry. My feet crack at night.”

You rotate your ankles under the blanket, eliciting a few more _pop_ s and _snaps_.

“y’know… between your cold temper’ment an’ fussin’ over whether i’m warm or where i sleep at night… you keep sendin’ me a _lot_ o’ mixed signals, darlin’.”

“… Mixed signals??”

“keep crackin’ them joints and i’ll have trouble stayin’ on this side of the bed,” he rumbles heatedly.

It takes you a second to put two and two together. “Wait… _Tell me_ that’s _not_ some kind of skeleton sex thing?”

“i’s _definitely_ a skeleton sex thing,” he grins.

He feels you shift as you bring a hand up to hide your embarassed face. “… Well, _fuck_.”

“you offerin’?” he asks delightedly.

“NO! Just- UGH! _Shut up_ and go to _sleep_ , Russ.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been _waiting_ for THIS.


	8. The Warning.

_Ugh._

Between Nora waking you at four AM to go outside, then crying until six when you finally gave in, _and_ trying to sleep next to a strange monster who _growled_ every time your body made a sound, last night was by _far_ one of the most restless nights you’ve had in a long while.

Since it’s Saturday, it’s unusual for you to be up before two in the afternoon for anything other than your dog’s bladder. But, you’ve given up on sleep for now, so you’ve decided to cook yourself breakfast for once. You’re poking at some bacon in a frying pan in the kitchen, dressed in a long nightgown, when you hear Russ’ footsteps coming down the stairs.

“makin’ me breakfast?” he teases from behind you. “darlin’, you shouldn’ve.”

You shoot him a look, but you’re too tired to go back and forth with him this morning. “I guess I could make you some if you want,” you relent, throwing another couple slices of bacon into the pan.

“what’re you makin’?”

“Just a breakfast sandwich thing with eggs and bacon.”

“smells good,” he rumbles.

You hear him shift from behind you to cross the room, opening the cabinet with your dishes. “What are you doing?” you ask, eyes still trained on the bacon in the pan.

“gettin’ plates,” he explains simply, returning to your side to lay out two dinner plates on the counter next to you. “there anythin’ else y’need?”

Is he offering to help? Well… Okay? You suppose you have nothing against it. “I was going to slice some cheese for these, and I guess I’ll need to toast another bagel or two, depending on how hungry you’re feeling.”

He nods and washes his hands in the kitchen sink before fetching the block of cheese from the fridge and a knife, using one of the plates as an impromptu cutting board for both that and the two additional English muffins he’s snagged. He works silently next to you, respecting your space, not an ounce of teasing left in him this morning. Maybe he’s tired too, you realize.

… Should you tell him?

If it’s _nothing_ , then it would just be uncomfortable and weird to bring up randomly out of the blue.

But, if it’s _not_ nothing, then…

“Say… Uh, Russ?” you awkwardly fumble out.

“yeah, darlin’?”

“This is going to sound totally strange, but… Do you have a brother?” you ask.

Russ’ hard mouth twitches as if to upturn in a grimace, though his hands continue slicing strips of cheese off the block. He’s never mentioned a brother since moving in, so you could be totally off the mark here.

“… yeah,” he rumbles after a moment.

“It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, right?” you press.

“couple’a months now,” he nods.

So a while before he moved in. “… I think that…” you sigh, already deep in this hole. “I think you should go see him today.”

You jump slightly as he sets the knife down against the ceramic plate with an abrupt clatter, finished with the cheese. “’m goin’ out for a smoke,” he mumbles, turning away sharply and heading out the patio door.

You let out a long sigh. Maybe it’s nothing after all.

… You _hope_ _so_.

 

* * *

Once outside, he lights a cigarette to nurse between his teeth and shortcuts his way back to his old place, then when he finds it empty, to the lodge.

He doesn’t want to be seen by a whole lot of people – not with how he left. There would be too many questions asked of him, and a whole lot of time wasted. Plus, at least half of them wouldn’t be able to keep their traps shut about his surprise visit.

He eventually settles on Sans, who’s alone in the study, sleeping and drooling all over a stack of papers he’d been working on.

The tall skeleton appears behind him and grabs his shoulder, shaking him awake.

“… mutt?” the slight blue hoodie-clad skeleton rouses slowly, rubbing at an eye socket, then the corner of his mouth. “you’re back?”

“where’s m’lord?” he asks bluntly.

“oh, (y/n) took him shopping a while ago,” Sans replies. “something up?”

Figures. That’d be why he couldn’t sense her either. “know where they went?”

“there’s this shopping plaza they like to go to on the edge of town,” Sans answers. “mutt, listen – are you here to stay? ‘cause she’s been asking about you. your bro, too.”

He takes a drag on his Echoflower cigarette, indigo smoke curling away from his teeth, an unreadable expression crossing his skull as his left eye begins to flicker, flaring orange and betraying his reserves of raw magic power. “tell ‘em i was here, and i’ll dust you m’self,” he threatens idly.

Then he shortcuts again.

This time for the plaza.

His shortcut takes him to the rooftop of Black’s favourite clothing store. There’s enough of a lip around the flat building roof that he can crouch down and avoid being seen by most folks. Looking out over the edge he spots little boy Blue’s motorcycle in the parking lot not far from the entrance.

When you asked if he had a brother, Mutt knew you weren’t just making casual conversation. Something in your voice was uneasy, and the way you brought it up out of the blue was highly suspect. No, the way you had asked _specifically_ about his brother, whom he _knows_ he’s never mentioned to you, put him ill at ease. You weren’t terribly interested in his family situation, he gathered, but the question seemed more like you were confirming something, not satisfying idle curiosity. And then you suggested that it might be a good idea to visit – and _soon_. _Very_ soon, he got the impression. No later than _today_ , at the very least.

You were _warning_ him.

… About what? He’s not sure yet.

He hears the doors to the shop chime below him, and Black’s unmistakably confident voice carrying above any ambient noise. Mutt sees him a moment later, grinning devilishly and carrying more branded tote bags than would fit in the motorcycle’s saddlebag compartments.

And then he sees (y/n).

She laughs joyfully at his bro’s charming antics, carrying no bags of her own but insisting that he _could_ give her some to hold on to for the ride home. Her scarf flutters behind her a ways in the autumn breeze. It looks very similar to his old one... Is (y/n) _really_ wearing that ratty old thing? Where did she even find it?

He’s not prepared for how it hits him like a punch to the gut, if he had one. Seeing her, in his old scarf, laughing and joking with his bro. Chewing on the end of his smoke, he pulls it from his teeth and tosses it aside. He needs to keep his distance, he reminds himself.

… At least they’re happy.

Then he hears a new set of voices.

Mutt takes a shortcut to the edge of the roof closest to the sound, to avoid the noise of walking over gravel.

“A girl like that hanging out with some monster?” someone spits. “That ain’t _right_.”

“Someone should do something about that,” a second speaker chimes in.

“Someone _should_.”

Mutt sets his teeth as he prepares to make his second surprise appearance for today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I have a second chapter to follow very shortly XD


	9. The Dream.

You yelp and fumble the two plates you were carrying as a certain tall skeleton abruptly appears in front of you. The larger one slips from your grasp, but his long phalanges grip the edge and right it before it can go tumbling dangerously to the floor.

“ _RUSS!_ ” you curse. “Holy _fuck!_ ”

He briefly turns and sets it on the table behind him, the one you were just about to finish setting for breakfast, letting it fall the last centimeter with a clatter. Then his orange eye lights turn their piercing gaze back on to you.

“Are you okay?” you ask, still trying to get your heartrate down. “I looked outside for you a few minutes ago but you weren’t there. Were you in the shed?” You thought you were the one spooked this morning, but his face looks absolutely stricken.

“… how did you know.”

“ _Bwuh?_ ” you blink. “How did I know _what?_ ”

He doesn’t answer you or attempt to clarify the question any. Just waits, orange eye lights still burning in his harrowing visage.

You feel a bit sheepish as your brain catches up to what you’d said before his extended smoke break. “Uh… Are you talking about… Your brother?” you attempt, feeling a wave of awkwardness wash over you.

Russ nods stiffly.

“I mean… Is he okay? Was there a girl there, too?” you ask hopefully.

He doesn’t move an inch. Just keeps staring down at you as if wishing his magic glow-eyes could shoot laser beams right through you.

“Tell me that they’re alright,” you negotiate, feeling your heart settle down to a slightly more normal pace. “And then I’ll tell you what I know. Deal?” 

* * *

“I’m _really_ glad they’re okay.”

You let out a sigh of relief as Russ picks at his food. His breakfast sandwiches had fallen apart in the shuffle, but all the components had stayed on the plate thanks to his quick reflexes. Instead of returning them to sandwich form, though, he’d decided to just pick at the parts and eat them with his fingers one morsel at a time. Shrugging, you take a bite of your own, still complete, delicious breakfast bagel sandwich. Nora’s seated in your lap, sniffing at your food and watching it’s every movement with the kind of focused intensity only a beggy Chihuahua is capable of.

“’s your turn now,” he reminds you.

 _Shit_. His timing couldn’t be worse. You hold up a finger to ask him to wait as you attempt chew your food down quickly, swallowing hard.

“Right,” you cough, taking a gulp of juice and wiping your mouth on your sleeve. “Well, uh… This is kind of an awkward topic, in that I don’t normally tell people about this, but-“

“get on wit’ it, _____.”

 _Someone’s_ in a mood today. Then again, you guess scaring off some thugs after his younger brother would justify him being in a sour state.

“Would you believe me if I told you… That, _sometimes_ , I have dreams that sort of… Come _true?_ ”

He stares at you intently, betraying no hint of whether he believes you or whether he thinks you’ve gone criminally stupid within the last ten seconds.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I wouldn’t believe me either.”

“you dreamed my bro was in trouble?” he asks, putting the pieces together.

“ _Sort_ of,” you clarify. “I dreamed that something happened to someone far away that you cared deeply about – a skeleton, male, younger than you, and _maybe_ some lady – and it… Well, it _wrecked_ you, emotionally, I guess.” You’re honestly not sure about the range of emotions he’s capable of, guarded as he is.

“an’ your dreams, they have a habit of comin’ true?”

He seems to be taking this rather well. “Only sometimes,” you reply. “Once in a blue moon, _really_ – but, the ones that come true never really happen the way I dreamed it would, so it can be really vague, and they have a certain level of, um… _Vividness_ to them, that tells me that it _might_ be one that does.”

He takes a moment to digest this.

“I could give you some examples, if you like?” you offer. “I even have an old journal kicking around, with dated entries as proof.”

“… sure,” he invites, leaning back in his chair to study you. “hit me wit’em.”

“Well,” you grin. “Once when I was staying over at a friend’s place, I dreamed that her two gerbils had babies. She had a black one and a brown one – both male, though, so it wasn’t physically possible for them to breed or anything. But, get this – the brown one died, and a while later her mom replaced it with another brown gerbil that looked identical to the old one. Except they forgot to check the gender. A few weeks later, gerbil babies happened.”

He chuckles a bit at that. You smile at the memory. Wish the dream had mentioned how gerbils are freaking _escape artists_ , though.

“Another one that was a bit… Heavier, I guess,” you continue. “I had a dream where my father died. I was sad, but the dream had a very financial tone to it. I was working a government job at the time, so in the dream I moved back home to take care of my family – paying the bills, the mortgage, settling his estate or whatever – but it didn’t have a lot of, mourning, I guess? Well, I didn’t find this out for months, because my parents never told me anything, but… The morning I had that dream was the morning my dad’s boss got the list of names for a major layoff at his company, and my dad’s name was on it. My dad didn’t even know _himself_ until a couple of days later.”

Russ blows air through his nasal passage at that, making a noise like a thoughtful hum.

“got any more?”

“This one’s more recent,” you tell him. “And… _Pretty_ sad. One night I had a dream that, the guy I was dating at the time? He was crushed by some huge metal garbage dumpster or something, which had been hanging overhead precariously by a narrow, fraying rope. It crushed him to death, and there was nothing I could do to save him. I woke up and told him about it, and he made fun of me for being worried about him over a stupid dream.”

 _“… really_.”

“Yeah, there’s a _reason_ why he’s an ex,” you wave off. “A _few_ reasons. Anyways, he wound up fine that day. The person who _wasn’t_ fine, though, was famous comedian Robin Williams. It turned out that he’d hung himself that morning, with a rope.”

Russ sets his teeth thoughtfully for a moment. You awkwardly shuffle your feet where they meet the floor.

“I, uh… _Actually_ ,” you confess. “I had a dream about _you_ the same morning we met, too.”

His cracked brow bone jerks upwards in surprise at that.

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “In my dream you moved in to some basement bedroom I don’t have, and I was too awkward to ask for rent, so I just gave you a list of repairs to make. But, I mean, imagine my surprise when I wake up and there’s this skeleton I just finished dreaming about hovering over me in my bedroom doorway.”

“ _darlin’_ ,” he rasps, a devilish smile pulling at the side of his hard face. “are ya tellin’ me i’m _the man o’ your dreams?”_

“Oh, don’t _start_ ,” you groan. Leave it to him to take that as an invitation to flirt.

“if i’d ‘ve known, i’d ‘ve worn m’ best suit for the occasion.”

“… _What_ suit?” You’ve only ever seen him wear lazy clothes, his jacket, boots, and dog collar.

“… _birthday_ ,” he winks.

You slam your hand into your forehead, or maybe it’s the other way around. “It is _seriously_ too early for this.”

“i’s two in th’ afternoon.”

“As far as _I’m_ concerned, any time before four PM qualifies as _too early_.”

“ _well_ ,” he rumbles a laugh. “i ain’t typic’ly one to disagree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the dreams I mentioned as examples in here are dreams I _did_ have that _did_ happen as described. 100% truth D:


	10. The Showing.

“y’ _know_ darlin’, i’ve offered t’ rent the spare rooms if y’need.”

You sigh, not turning away from the computer to face him. “I know.”

“so, y’gunna write up a rental agreement or somethin’?”

“I’m not renting the rooms to you,” you announce. He should’ve gotten the hint already with how many times you’ve brushed him off, but it seems like Russ hasn’t given up just yet.

“why not?”

“ _Because_ , Russ,” you snap, closing the lid of the laptop on the bed in front of you and turning around to see him. He’s leaning casually in the doorway with a toothpick between his teeth. “The _only reason_ you’re offering in the first place is because you think I need the help. You’re not going to use them _anyways_ , and I _hate_ feeling like some kind of charity case. Besides, I’ve already got a showing booked for one of them.”

He takes the toothpick from between his teeth and looks at it idly in his long skeletal fingers. “’ve heard you gettin’ rattled about bills with that friend o’ yours online,” he points out.

You roll your eyes and groan. Of _course_ he’s been listening in to your Skype calls with Mike.

“That’s just something I do,” you sigh. “Unless I’m somehow rolling in cash with more than I can spend, I’m _always_ going to be bothered by my debt and bills. Stressing myself out over money is a character flaw and not cause for emergency. I _told_ you, I’ve got it handled.”

Sticking the toothpick back between his teeth, he shrugs against the doorframe. “… a’right darlin’,” he concedes, then turns away to head downstairs.

Opening up your laptop again, you try to regain your focus on the writing commission you’ve been struggling to pick away at.

* * *

 

The next morning you wake up to loud knocking on the front door.

“Fucking _what_ ,” you grumble sleepily.

Nora perks up, stretching with an adorable yawn before parking herself at the corner of the bed nearest the closed bedroom door, whimpering with interest at whomever could be knocking before noon on a Thursday.

You close at the pizza place on Thursday nights, so you hadn’t planned to be out of bed before two, which is why you had stayed up so late watching Kitchen Nightmares with Russ looking over your shoulder. He said over and over that he didn’t mind, and seemed genuinely interested in the show, so you both kind of lost track and binge-watched half a season of it.

Struggling against the seductive thrall of more sleep, you stretch out and start to disentangle yourself from the blanket. Before you can actually haul yourself out of bed though, Russ is on his feet and at the door.

“… Russ?” you ask blearily.

“’ll get it,” he says, opening the bedroom door and heading downstairs. Nora follows him down obediently.

 _That_ fully wakes you up. Russ is going to go answer the front door, where someone is knocking loudly once again. The mental image of the shocked face of the person being greeted by an almost seven foot tall shirtless skeleton monster is too delightful to want to interfere with under most circumstances, but then again, it could be something important, like… Who knows, the city having someone check your water meter or something? First impressions _might_ be important.

With that in mind, you roll off the bed onto your feet and straighten out your nightgown. Heading downstairs, you see Nora in Russ’ arms from the back, and a very surprised older lady on the front step just past him.

“Uh, hello! My name is Lorraine, I’m here for a showing I booked with _____,” she says when she sees you.

You blink a couple times to try to get the last of the fog from sleep out of your vision. “… I thought we scheduled for Friday?” you reply.

“Oh, I thought it was today?” she insists.

You’re still standing on the stairs in your pajamas, too tired to deal with this right now. “No, I definitely said Friday. I work later today so I try to book showings for days that I’m off,” you attempt to clarify.

“I thought it was for today, maybe I read it wrong,” she attempts.

And… She _still_ doesn’t move from the front step.

Well, fuck it. _Whatever_. The house is a mess either way so you might as well just get this over with.

Russ lets her past while Nora sniffs her curiously, little nub of a tail wagging excitedly at your early morning visitor. He hands her off to you while you quietly mutter at him to go put a damn shirt on. Lorraine takes off her shoes and then properly greets Nora, who is overjoyed to have the attention. As Russ disappears upstairs, you present to her the livingroom and explain a bit more about how the shared living spaces work.

* * *

 

After pulling on a burnt orange turtleneck, he decides to wear his jacket with the hood up as well. It helps him to look a tad more threatening or imposing at times. He might need that with this Lorraine lady lurking around the house. After all, he didn’t like the look of her soul.

It was dark and almost devoid of any virtues a human soul typically has, save for a streak of purple that might explain her stubbornness at the door. It ran across the middle of it like a scratch, but had roots spreading out from it reminding him of a tumor. There were speckles of other colours in the darkness that he’d only noticed upon checking it further, such as green and blue and red, but only speckles. Not enough to indicate a strong affinity for any virtue other than perseverance.

A soul doesn’t offer a complete picture of a person’s personality of course, but the oddness of this Lorraine’s soul concerned him.

As he heads back downstairs he can hear her talking to you about something.

“… So is he your boyfriend or something?”

 _Oh_ , he smirks. She’s talking about _him_.

“ _Tenant_ ,” you swiftly correct.

“It’s just so forward of him to be so undressed around you,” Lorraine points out in a whisper.

He can almost hear the roll of your eyes as you say “He’s a huge flirt with me, but I’ve made it _abundantly clear_ that I’m _not_ interested. He’s _not_ a boyfriend, now or _ever_.”

“not fer lack ‘f tryin’,” he smirks as he reaches the bottom of the stairs.

You give him a wide-eyed glare that tells him everything he needs to know about how you feel about _that_ , then you usher Lorraine into the kitchen to show it off. Mutt decides to stretch out on the recliner couch looking at his phone while he listens in on your conversation.

Lorraine and you go back and forth about your mutual love of baking and of how you can both be clean freaks when you want to be, before the older woman stops to take a breath.

“My daughter is such a _bitch!_ ”

He looks up just as he notices you taking a step back from the now sobbing elderly woman. Her life story spills out of her as you hold on to Nora protectively.

Mutt can barely make heads or tails of what the lady’s saying - something about moving here for her kids, but her kids not making room for her in their homes or something, but he’s more entertained by your expression. He gets really interested in his cell as he watches you out of the corner of his eye socket. You purse your lips, brows arcing up in feigned shock, some scattered “Mm-hmms” and “Oh nos” as you respond only just enough to signal you’re listening. She continues her tale as you continue trying to appear empathetic to her struggles, but still trying to signal disinterest with your short answers in the hopes of a speedy resolution to the old lady’s breakdown in the middle of your kitchen.

There’s a very clear look to your face that says everything he needs to know about Lorraine’s eligibility as a tenant, but he knows, just like _you_ know: This showing’s only _just begun_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My bunny died today and I'm kind of bummed about it, so I wanted to distract myself by throwing myself at my writing. I edited a thing for my bestie and gave him some suggestions, and then discovered that I had more than enough of more Not Your Prey written to justify putting a chapter up, so here it is.
> 
> Also, Lorraine is based on a real person for a real showing I did, so her name has been changed in the fiction out of respect for the batshit insane, and I've sort of narrated the details of her visit to the past tense in the start of the next chapter instead of re-living that... _Whatever_ that was. Twenty minutes in the twilight zone? Anyways, [here's the Tumblr post rant I did on that eventful showing](https://ladyanatares.tumblr.com/post/170687032325/things-not-to-say-to-your-prospective-landlord) in case you're interested in more context before I can get the next chapter done and posted. Which may take a while. My life is a fickle bitch and I never know where I'll be at literally or mentally anymore.
> 
> Also, I set up a Discord server I always forget to link when I post something on AO3, so here's the invite link: https://discord.gg/fdWkqdJ Come talk about random crap with us, peruse the spoilers channel for planned future plotlines for all fics, and just help keep me entertained I guess? I don't know, I like chatting with folks and stuff, so come chill with me <3


	11. The Hug.

“Did that whole thing actually _happen??_ ”

Russ rumbles with a chuckle where he’s got his feet propped up on the folding table in the kitchen, scrolling through some social media feed. You distractedly remove his feet from the table’s already cluttered surface.

“Like, I can’t even _process_ that!” you continue complaining, stomping your way across the messy kitchen, followed by the sound of tiny claws clacking against tile as Nora follows you. “Could a single living person have any _more_ red flags to wave??”

“i dunno, thought she was good entertainment at th’ least,” he shrugs.

You march back towards him, then put a hand on your forehead as you stare off into space. “Holy shit, _I let_ that crazy person into my _house_.”

“so, y’gonna rent to her?” he asks idly.

“ _Fuck NO!_ I’d sooner burn my own house down!”

“that might be a _l’il_ over-dramatic there, darlin’.”

“If you want to see _over-dramatic_ , we could get Lorraine back here,” you counter sarcastically.

“was it the ‘i wasn’ scammed an’ the sheriff’s lyin’ t’ me’ bit that disqualified her from rentin’?” he asks. “or, what ‘bout the ‘i have a fiancé in _saudi arabia_ who’s rich an’ has a kid who’s gonna come over here an’ marry me’ bit? that too many people in one house?” he chuckles.

“No, _way_ before _that_ hot mess of failures in judgement. Actually, I knew within thirty seconds of stepping into the kitchen.”

“her baking skills not up to snuff?” he jeers.

“No. When she called her daughter a _bitch_ , it reminded me a little too much of my own mother,” you explain.

… Huh. He closed the tab on his phone.

You figure that must mean he’s done joking now and ready to listen. While you haven’t known Russ for long, he has these subtle little cues about him that you’re starting to pick up on. It pays off to be freakishly observant sometimes.

Sighing, you fold your arms in front of you. “I don’t really want to get too deep into it, but, yeah, I haven’t spoken to my own mother for about seven years now. Basically the reason was she couldn’t treat me with respect or treat me like an adult, and she never had anything nice to say about me. So, after one bad fight she told me never to contact them again. So, I didn’t – cut her off from everything. She changed her phone number and then turned around and complained I never call.” You scrunch up your face at the hypocrisy of it. “Sorry, I guess I kind of went on about it anyways, huh?”

He shrugs. “’m not bothered.”

“Well,” you wince awkwardly at yourself. “I didn’t really want to get into it anyway, so we might as well drop it,” you attempt to dismiss.

“jus’ got me curious, though – y’got any other family around, at least?”

“I have some aunts and cousins in town actually, but I don’t know any of them very well. They seem really nice, so no problems there – I’m just an awkward mess of a person and don’t really know how to interact with people I barely know.”

 _Gods_ , and you just rambled again. _Shut up already_.

He slides his phone into a jean pocket and stands to his full eight feet of height, facing you. “c’mere darlin’,” he invites, holding his arms open.

“… What?”

“figured y’ might need a hug,” he lazily shrugs.

You scrunch up your face. “I don’t think this situation really calls for a _hug_.” Is he looking for a chance to feel you up or something? The gesture seems innocent enough, but you’ve just made a fool of yourself twice within the last two minutes.

“offer’s on th’ table,” he smirks.

… _Well_ …

You decide to take the bait, mostly just to see what he’ll do with it.

You take a step towards him and, cautiously, encircle your arms up around his ribcage. His arms wrap around you equally slowly, as if giving you a chance to pull away, before finally pulling you into him.

…

It’s awkward for sure – he’s your _tenant_. That… You let sleep in your bed, because he doesn’t have the sense to have a _real_ bed of his own. And, that you _dream_ about, apparently, at least once or twice. The whole situation with Russ is awkward, frankly – but you couldn’t just let the guy neglect himself by _freezing_ in a shed and sleeping on an oversized _dog bed_.

…

Yeah, it’s _way awkward_.

…

Is it over yet?

Nora stands against your leg and lets out a snort, obviously not impressed that she wasn’t included in the hug.

“Did we forget you?!” you babytalk her, relieved for the opportunity to let Russ go so you can scoop her up in your arms. Immediately she starts licking your nose, so you blow air at her to get her to stop. Russ chuckles as he leans in to the both of you now, scratching her neck as she decides to lick his face instead.

“so,” he drawls. “y’gunna rent the rooms t’ me now?”

“ _Ughh_ ,” you groan.

“well a’least ya know ‘m good for th’ rent,” he reminds you.

“ _Oh my gods_ ,” you gape, remembering Lorraine’s showing. “Who even _says_ that?!? ‘Yeah I hated my old place so I got myself kicked out by not paying rent!’ _Yeah_ , ‘cause that’s _totally_ something a prospective _landlord_ wants to hear!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably used the word 'awkward' an unprecedented amount of times here but like, this is how I feel/think about social interaction most of the time XD Ughhhh.
> 
> This one's a little short but I couldn't think of anything else to filler-it with, got plenty on my own parental/family issues on display here and Russ just acknowledging that, _damn_ , this awkward bitch needs a hug every once in a while XD And I wrote that last line and I kind of wanted to end the chapter on it.
> 
> In other news my relationship with my local extended family still feels like an impasse - I went to my cousin's son's third birthday party and it was an awesome time chasing all the kiddos around, but afterwards my aunt was like "Hey wanna make some peach jam for me?" and "You should totally come over this summer for a barbecue" and like, neither happened? XD I'm sure she's just busy, I know I've been busy too D:


	12. The Closet.

“ _Mmmpfh_.”

You didn’t sleep very well last night. After staying up too late explaining RimWorld to Russ, you woke up not two hours later for a bathroom break. So when Nora decided to rouse you for her own bathroom break after only a scant two more hours, you were less than thrilled about this turn of events.

As she grows more and more insistent, you grumble at her more as you move to sit up.

… Wait. _Hang the fuck on_.

You look up from the pillow you’re curled into, your sleep-deprived brain slowly just starting to connect the dots.

You’re not curled into _your_ pillow. You’re curled into the body pillow you left centre-bed to separate you and Russ.

You draped your arms and legs around it in a deathgrip. And not only that.

Your hand had reached _past_ the pillow, and your fingers somehow worked their way in between the bones of Russ’ _bare ribcage_.

And, after a cursory yank of your arm, you realize that your fingers are _stuck_.

Propping yourself up on your arm underneath you, you check his face quickly. Yep, his eye sockets are closed, and you thank any gods that might be listening that he seems to still be asleep.

Nora whines at you again, sitting on the corner of the bed and tapping her paws into it impatiently, and you hiss a whisper at her, scolding her to stay quiet.

It takes entirely too long, your face hot with embarrassment at your predicament. His ribs are kind of close together, so your bony fingers won’t budge until you slide them to the middle where the gap is slightly wider. Even then, not all of them come away at once, and you have to spend more time trying to retrieve all four fingers from your roommate’s bony bare body.

Finally, after hissing a few swear words under your breath, you free yourself, and practically fall over the other side of the bed.

Free at last, you land on your feet and are practically _sprinting_ downstairs away from that fucking awkwardness before Russ wakes up and finds out you basically molested him in his sleep.

After you flee downstairs, Mutt cracks an eye open and chuckles.

The _last_ thing he’d expected from you was groping his bones in his sleep.

Not that he’s complaining.

 

* * *

 

He’s been here about a month now, and he hasn’t really done any investigating. Sure, you’ll tell him most things if he asks you directly, and you’ve even shared some things he knows are deeply personal to you (like your psychic dreams and your relationship with your folks). But those details aren’t interesting to him right now.

Right now he wants to know the kinds of things you aren’t keen on sharing so easily.

One day he’d asked you why you didn’t seem to care that he’s a monster. You told him that you didn’t want to focus on it. He asked if there was any particular reason why, and you’d shrugged and dismissed it saying you just didn’t want to be rude.

Well. You were _lying_ , and he knows it.

So what’s your deal with monsters then?

Most people react in some way. He’s accustomed to the negative reactions, even surprised shrieks at his presence (he always got a kick out of shortcutting behind bigots talking about him), and more than his fair share of uncomfortable stares. He’s even seen plenty of overly positive responses, too – plenty of folks who don’t want to be thought of as bigoted, just being overly nice to him and his bro. He’s also been treated like some kind of tourist attraction a few times, with random people asking for a photo with him just to show they’re ‘monster-friendly’. Some folks could be a little _more_ monster friendly lately, as he hasn’t brought anyone home in a while (even if he just has the shed for that – he’s not going to use _your_ bed for one of his floozies, he’s more of a gentleman than _that_ ).

The thing is, most people _react_.

You didn’t.

Poking through your stuff while you’re at work might give him some idea as to why.

The first thing he finds is a large deck of cards. It was hard to miss – it was sitting on a shelf in a fancy red drawstring bag barely bigger than the cards themselves, on top of a book that gave away what kind of cards they must be. Tarot cards.

… It doesn’t give him the answers he’s looking for, but it’s interesting to know you’re into human superstitions. Apart from the dreams, he’d always figured you the logical and practical sort.

Next he finds a small spiral bound notebook tucked away behind the bed. Thinking it might be your diary, he smirks as he cracks it open and starts reading.

… It’s a dream journal.

Of course, that makes a lot of sense. If you have dreams that come true from time to time, it’s logical for you to want to write them down – this is basically your proof. You didn’t write down the one about him moving in, though, nor the one about Sans. Actually, the last two entries are nearly half a year apart. Maybe you just don’t keep up with it?

He goes through a plastic crate full of paper and finds a couple large envelopes. One is full of legal documents about your house, and a man’s name comes up here and there. Your ex? He may have to look him up. You haven’t exactly said much about him, either. The other envelope is some documents from a job that let you go last year. You worked with computers? That’s impressive, but then why are you making pizza now?

Going through the rest of the paper reveals some bills with late payment charges, and that you have some debt. He’s not sure how much debt is a lot of debt for humans, but he’s fairly sure that it’s more than your part-time pizza job can afford to keep up with. He may have to do something about that.

His search hasn’t yielded anything about your feelings towards monsters yet. The only place he hasn’t looked yet is the closet.

Come to think of it, you do usually kick him out of the room when you grab clothes to change in to, and he hears it sliding open and slamming shut fairly quickly. You got some skeletons to hide in there, _____?

Well, you’re about to.

He sticks a phalange between the folding double doors, and pushes one of them to the side. It slides with ease and folds itself in half out of the way.

It takes a moment to register before Mutt starts _laughing_. He’s hit the jackpot.

When he considered being a skeleton in your closet, he didn’t know he wouldn’t be the _only_ one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mutt you bad boy XD
> 
> Also, Tyranttortoise's recent chapters of SSLL have me inspired today, though funnily enough I wrote this _before_ I actually went through them this morning. It kinda works out though for what I figure his personality is like, so this snooping/invasion of privacy is overdue for him. But, I also sort of set my (alternate timeline keep in mind) offshoot fic to be a year elapsed from TT's main story, so maybe his former landlady's taught him some manners since then?
> 
> Too bad the lessons didn't stick XD


	13. The Doll.

“How was your day?”

Upon getting home from work you busy yourself with tearing out of all your winter gear, Nora racing downstairs to greet you before you can even finish getting your huge coat unbuttoned. You lean down so she can lick your hands as soon as you get your gloves off, then she races for the back door expectantly, chirping happily as you hear tiny claws skitter across tile.

Russ doesn’t even look up from his phone where he’s reclined on the couch nearby. “was sorta enlightening,” he smirks to himself.

“Enlightening _how?_ ” you ask, sliding off your winter boots and setting them on the tile at the front door. The roads were covered in slush and your socks soaked through your leaking boots, so you peel those off too and throw them onto the vent to dry out.

He doesn’t answer you before you’re done, so you head past him to the kitchen where Nora waits by the back door. Sliding it open, she launches out into the thin layer of snow. You flick on the lights to help you keep track of her tiny black silhouette in the darkened backyard.

In the corner of your vision you see Russ holding something up.

You recognize it instantly.

“You’ve been going through my stuff,” you acknowledge flatly.

He bobs the life-size plush skeleton up and down for effect, smirking at his discovery.

“… What about him?” you ask icily.

“oh, so it’s a _him_ , huh?” he chuckles. “jus’ thought i’d pay your closet a visit, but turns out there was a skeleton in it already,” he jokes.

You show him the most frigid, stoic expression you can possibly manage.

He seems to get bored with the joke, offering you your skeleton plush back. You take it instantly and pull him behind you with the long arms draped over your shoulders as if he’s a backpack. Russ snorts at that, while you try to find your cool again.

“… A friend of mine made him for my birthday this year,” you explain with a sigh. “He’s modelled after a character in a story I write online. You know, if you wanted to ask about him you didn’t have to be a _complete ass_ about it.”

He seems to be a bit off his guard at that. “there’s a lot y’ don’t tell me, darlin’. i jus’ wanted some insight in what you might be hidin’ ‘s all.”

Ridiculous, you dismiss. “There’s literally nothing to tell that you don’t already know. I even told you about my _dreams_ , that’s the biggest secret I have and you already know about it.”

“you write stories online y’ said?” he points out, and you internally hiss at the blood rushing to your face before it gets there. “first y’ve told me. see? we’re learnin’ new things ‘lready.”

“Ugh.”

“ _sooo_ ,” he drawls, leaning closer. You lean away. “you write about _skeletons_ , huh? what kinda stories?”

“The fictional kind.”

“what kinda _fiction_ , then? anythin’ i might enjoy?”

You roll your eyes and tap on the window for Nora to come inside. She’s too busy prancing around in the thin layer of snow to care.

“Just… Listen,” you sigh. “This is embarrassing enough already, okay? Yes, I have a giant skeleton doll thing,” you tell him, bobbing the arms up and down for emphasis. “An awesome friend of mine made him for me because she knows, uh… That, I like skeletons, and I guess… Because maybe she thought I was a bit lonely? I stuffed him in my closet because honestly, I thought you’d be weirded out by it. That’s all there is to it, Russ.”

“you like skeletons, huh?” Of _course_ he focuses in on that part in your confession-ramble. “since when?”

“Since _way_ before I learned monsters to be an actual thing,” you firmly assert. “Hell, I didn’t even know there were _any_ skeleton monsters in Canada since you guys came out from under that mountain. We don’t actually _get_ a lot of monsters up here – you’re the only one I’ve met personally so far.”

“an’ what kinda stories you writin’ about skeletons, again?” he presses, smirking.

You _hate_ the fact that your face flushes and you have to look away. “Romance, mostly. But hey – I write fluffy romantic bullshit between women and potentially dangerous, non-human entities, okay? It’s not _just skeletons_ – I have a novel in the work with some fey-demon guys, and a sort-of short story with a curious slenderman named Steve. Maybe if you let this drop without any _more_ awkwardness tonight, I’ll even let you read some of it,” you bargain. “I write it for other women like me though, so keep that in mind if you do. It doesn’t really register with a male audience at all times, or so Mike tells me.”

“an’ it’s not a fetish thing,” he clarifies.

“What? No! It’s just dumb what-if paranormal romance shit,” you claim.

He chuckles at your defensiveness, your eyes now totally fixated on the dark backyard. Nora’s decided to start howling at some distant other dog she hears.

“ _NORA!_ ” you scold. Why is she _taking_ so long? It’s late, you just want to go to bed and make this day be _over_ already. You reach past Russ for a treat to try and get her attention with.

Instead you jump slighting as he grips your arm, leaning in close to your ear.

“i also found your toys.”

The doll falls from your shoulders. In one motion you grab the front of his jacket with the one hand and slide the patio door open with the other. Shoving him bodily outside with all the strength you can muster, you scream at him.

“GO _FREEZE_ TO DEATH IN THE FUCKING _SHED_ FOR ALL I CARE!”

Nora mercifully sees this as an opportunity to dart inside before you slam the glass door shut, flicking the lock downward. You leave the skeleton doll lying right there on the floor, your dog hot on your heels as you bolt upstairs crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy apology chapter coming immediately after. That's right folks, there's two today :D
> 
> Also Mutt got _literally_ sent to the dog house in this one XD
> 
> [Edit}; Oh yeah and the doll in question can be seen in [this video](https://ladyanatares.tumblr.com/post/166443720130/ladyanatares-birthday-unboxing-video-im-still) I did for my birthday last year. I was still pretty tipsy when I edited it, so Nora's got some captions, little thief XD


	14. The Apology.

He’d just wanted to tease you about it.

Mutt’s got the space heater going as he’s stretched out on the dog bed, it humming away to keep out the freezing temps as he works through his second Echoflower cig of the night.

If he’s being honest with himself, he does feel a bit guilty about it. A bit pissed off, too, that it turned out this way, but… Well, if he’d gotten you to admit that you liked him, maybe his flirting could’ve been a bit less aimless. The crazy ones were always the best in bed.

Well… Maybe he shouldn’ve underestimated all that _red_ in your soul.

You’re like _fire_ when you’re angry, but _ice cold_ at the same time.

… Huh, that’s poetic. He should write that down.

He taps the ashes off his cig into a mug he keeps nearby, reaching for a notepad when he hears a demanding knock on the door.

Curious. He gets up to check it out.

He opens the door to find you, in nothing but your boots and your jammies, running your hands up and down your arms to try and keep warm. Your face is a mess from what he can see with the light behind him. How hard have you been crying over his stupid jokes?

“It’s supposed to get down to minus seven overnight,” you announce bitterly, voice wavering slightly in the cold. “Get in the house. You’re sleeping on the couch.”

He crooks a bony brow at that. “thought y’ told me t’ freeze to death.”

“Get. In. The. House. _Before_ I _change my mind_ ,” you bark icily at him, then turn away from him to march back through the snow inside.

He figures he ought to follow you before _you’re_ the one to freeze out here. He quickly snuffs out his cig in the mug to finish off later, then clicks the heater off before getting his own boots on to head inside.

Once inside, you unceremoniously toss him his blanket from the bed and head upstairs without another word, the door to your room shutting and locking behind you.

He looks over at the skeleton doll still on the kitchen floor. He’d stepped over it when he came in. Were you ashamed of it now because of him?

He heads over to it, picking it up and dusting it off, then brings it over to the couch. Then he looks at the blanket, and sighs slightly.

“y’deserve this more than me,” he rumbles.

After tucking in the doll, he stretches out as best as he can on the opposite side of the couch, reclined and on his back, as he tries to get some sleep.

 

* * *

 

You left for work the next day without seeing Russ. Probably for the best, since you didn’t really want to deal with him right now anyways. It was hard to get through the morning shift though after having slept very little.

But once you come home, the first thing you notice is the overpowering smell of roses. The second thing you notice, is that the stairs have apparently been vacuumed of the accumulated black dog hair.

Nora darts out from the kitchen when she hears the door, happily skipping up to you as you wonder why she was in there and not waiting on the bed upstairs like normal. Also, your skeleton doll is apparently on the couch? Tucked in with Russ’ blanket, no less.

You notice the sound of the dishwasher going in the kitchen, and then the sound of a tap being turned off. Russ’ head peeks around the corner as you’re just getting out of your boots to investigate.

“what did y’want for dinner?” he asks. His rough voice seems to lack some of the edge that he usually has.

What’s… Going _on_ here today?

A bit stunned, you head into the kitchen to find out.

He’s cleaned it.

Like _really_ cleaned it.                     

The cobwebs that were up in the corners (which you were neglecting because _spiders_ ) are gone, the fronts of your stainless steel appliances have been shined, and every surface that’s usually cluttered with dirty dishes and crap has been cleared and wiped clean. You spot a bunch of pans in the right sink where the drying rack is, and a dish rag in Russ’ hands, positively identifying him as the culprit to your clean house.

… Did he even scrub the grout for the kitchen tile? It’s _white_.

The only thing on any surface in here, well things, are all three of your flower vases stuffed with as many longstem roses as they can fit. You immediately can’t resist the temptation to step over and steal a sniff.

Russ clears his throat behind you. “listen, i ain’t the best at apologies, but i figured i ought t’ get ya somethin’ after last night,” he says. “the lady said they’re fire an’-“

“Fire and ice roses,” you interrupt, massaging your fingers over the soft petals – pale on the outside almost to the point of being a very soft blue, with vibrant red on the inside. And the scent is so strong that your whole house undoubtedly smells like them, especially with so many.

“right. well, can’t help that they reminded me of you.”

You turn to him in surprise. “Where did you even _get_ these? I was told they stopped breeding them like over a _decade_ ago.”

He smirks and shrugs. “had t’ head all the way back home for ‘em.”

“These are my favourite.”

You didn’t notice the tension in his shoulders until they dip slightly as he relaxes them now. “glad you like ‘em.”

“And you’ve been cleaning?”

“figured i mess the place up too at times, might as well pitch in.”

“But the vacuum’s broken, how did you do the stairs?”

He shrugs. “jus’ needed a new belt an’ a clog cleared out. changed the filters too, now ’s good as new.”

Right, he likes fixing stuff. He told you that when he moved in.

“listen, _____ – i wasn’ tryin’ to embarrass you or nothin’ last night. i jus’ wanted you t’ know, ‘m not one bit bothered by the doll or the skeleton stuff. i only meant to tease ya ‘bout it.” He grumbles and rotates his neck. “guess i went too far wit’ it.”

“You guessed _right_ ,” you glare. “Word of advice? _Don’t_ tell a woman you went looking for her _dildos_ , or better yet, _definitely_ don’t tell her that you _found_ them.”

He chuckles at that. “so _look_ but don’t _tell_. i got it now.”

“ _Russ_ …”

“so how ‘bout dinner? i’s on me,” he bargains.

Pfft, okay, that was _kind_ of funny. You decide to finally give in to Nora’s prompting for you to let her outside. Instantly she launches off a freshly-shoveled deck into… A snow maze?

You laugh as she starts running up and down the paths Russ must have spent some time digging out in the huge yard. A foot of snow fell overnight, and you’d only just shoveled the steps and a square of it this morning so she’d do her business, but he definitely finished the job. There are twists and turns and dead ends here and there, and Nora happily runs up and down it like it’s the best thing she’s ever experienced in her life.

“You did this?”

He steps up next to you, leaning against the door frame watching the crazy black dog dart up and down the maze. “i let her out earlier an’ she didn’t have nowhere to go, so i figured i’d give ‘er some. i gave her a cooked strip o’ bacon for solvin’ it.”

You point out one dead end where it seems like she just jumped out back to the main path. “Is _that_ how she ‘solved’ it?”

“points fer thinkin’ outside the box,” he grins proudly.

You giggle at that. “Okay, I guess, apology accepted? As this has all already been sort of awesome, but I’ll still take dinner if you’re offering to pay for it.”

He shrugs. “or make it.”

You’re a tiny bit surprised as you’ve only ever seen him with microwaved or takeout food, with the rare exception of pizza you’ve brought home or food you’ve shared with him. “You cook?”

“’m no gordon ramsay, but i can grill. burgers, steak, ‘s your choice.”

“Well… I’ll have to try that another day. For now, I actually just want something easy delivered.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gods I miss those roses so much. I used to work in a flower shop and would try and buy these in singles all the time. I was told that they were discontinued but it seems that some places online might still have them when I googled them earlier, which is nifty to know :D [Here's a good picture of a bunch of them](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ba/71/ef/ba71ef97bfaa79a11b3a8ce6bf26b504.jpg).
> 
> One of these will fill the room with the luxurious scent of roses. A bouquet will fill your whole _house_ with the smell. The only other variety I know that's that pungent are the pale purple roses that I had Fellby give Reader in my Underfell fic at one point.
> 
> Also yes, monsters and their puzzles XD


	15. The Story.

He laughs in surprise as you come back downstairs a few minutes later.

“I figured you’ve seen most of my skeleton stuff anyways,” you sigh. “So, there’s no sense for me to be hiding _anything_ from you now.”

You’ve returned to the main floor with your laptop and wireless mouse in your hands, but that’s not what’s caught Mutt’s attention.

You’ve changed into what looks like a zip-up skeleton-themed nightgown.

It’s made of loose black fleece with long sleeves and hangs just past your knees, looking soft and comfortable as all hell. There’s a large white hood on it too, where he can make out black patches for (what he figures is reasonable to assume are) eye sockets and a nasal passage, that sits bunched up behind your shoulders. The zipper goes down the front of it, from collar to crotch, and has a skeleton rib cage, pelvis, and femurs screen-printed onto it.

He’s already entertaining a few ideas about peeling it open by that zipper when you drop onto the couch next to him.

You scowl at him. “Shut _up_ ,” you scoff.

“i said nothin’,” he rumbles innocently.

“Well, I’ve never been undressed by someone’s eyes so _loudly_ before.”

“darlin’, i’d be more ‘n glad to use my hands instead,” he chuckles.

You roll your eyes and fix him with a glare. “Do you want to see what I have to show you, or should we just skip a few steps and you can go out and get me more flowers again?”

You weren’t coming to show him the nightgown?

Biting your lip as your face gets a bit warmer in tone, you open the laptop and type in a password to unlock it. Your fingers fly across the keyboard like its old hat, but if you’re a writer on the side then that just makes sense. After a couple moments of clicking, you have something opened, but you hide the screen against your chest as you regard him seriously.

“I’m only showing you these because you _asked_ , alright?” you decide to clarify in advance. “This isn’t me _flirting_ with you or anything, this is _only_ because you asked about my dumb stories.”

You’re showing him your writing? This must be his lucky night.

Letting out one final, defeated sigh, you turn the laptop towards him and he takes it onto his lap.

Nora hops up and makes herself at home on your lap as you try and distract yourself scrolling through Tumblr, which he also peeks at out of the corner of his eye socket in interest. He recognizes Blue’s blog in your feed, and you giggle at a selfie he posted of himself, giving it a like. Maybe it’d knock your socks off to introduce you at some point.

... _Focus_ , Mutt.

He starts reading your story you’ve started him on, and he chuckles at a few parts because, this character that you’re writing? It’s _absolutely_ you. Yes it’s a self-insert-style fic, but while he hasn’t had reason to indulge in the genre before now, he can tell that this character’s sassy backtalk and fiery temper are absolutely true to your life.

After indulging in about seven chapters of it (they go by quickly), he checks and discovers that there are over a hundred chapters of story in total.

“… y’ want me t’ keep goin’?” he asks idly.

“I mean, only if you _want_ to. Don’t like, feel obligated to read it or anything,” you deflect, still a bit embarrassed that you’re even showing this to him.

“no, ‘s good. the main character reminds me o’ someone,” he teases.

“Well, it _should_ , I guess? I mean, it _is_ based on my life. They say write what you know, right?” you smile shyly.

“well, i’s the best skeleton-slash-human fic _‘ve_ ever read,” he compliments. “what are kudos?”

“Uhh,” you fluster. “Those are, like, likes on the story. If someone enjoys it they can leave a kudos, but they can only ever do it once.”

“… y’ve got over three thousand of ‘em on yer story here,” he observes.

“Oh, it broke three K? Nice,” you beam, slightly proud of yourself.

“is th’ plan for tonight to jus’ read?”

“ _Umm_ ,” you shrink into the couch a little. “Actually, I figured I’d just show you that while we waited for food, then once that got here I have a movie I rented online to share with you too.”

Almost as if on cue, Nora starts whimpering from the arm of the couch, and you get up to get the door. Mutt slides his phone out of his pocket and copies down the website for your story in order to read more later. It’s like, dumb cute shit with clever jokes dropped in here and there. Why’re you so embarrassed about it?

You trade him his box of delivery food (some cheap rotisserie chicken place you suggested) for the laptop so you can set the movie up, and he surprises you by standing with it and nodding towards the stairs.

“why don’ we take this party upstairs an’ get comfortable?” he suggests casually.

You crook an eyebrow at him curiously, then shrug and pack your things up, suspecting nothing. It’s not like you haven’t watched shows on the laptop on the bed with him a few times already.

In Mutt’s case, tonight’s about the most intimate connection he’s _had_ in a while, and he kind of wants to keep the theme going. You sharing something so personal about yourself, followed by dinner and a show? Plus, that nightgown is driving his imagination a little wild. With the skeleton print it’s almost like he’s _already_ got you naked in front of him, even if he’s plenty aware that that’s not how humans work.

… He must _really_ be pent up.

 Well, he’ll just see where the night takes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this wasn't going to be a two-parter but it got long and I found a way to lengthen the next part & make it a full chapter length anyways. *shrugs*
> 
> Yes he's reading my infamous 'Not Your Doll' main story, which for the purposes of this fic has been implied to be adapted to a world where Undertale doesn't exist, and just involves a human and a monster slow-burning their way through a relationship XD
> 
> [Edit] Shit yes I forgot to post a pic of the nightgown thing. It actually was in a bag that implies it's a Hallowe'en costume but I still maintain that it's warm and comfy as hell? [It's the very next photo after the incredible NYD UF!Sans jacket shrinkingcoyote made for me on this post.](https://ladyanatares.tumblr.com/post/173134705270/oh-my-assorted-gods) And yes while it's been too hot in my house to rock this summer I still want to be buried in it.


	16. The Movie.

Once you’d clued in to the fact that you’d be sitting on the bed together with dinner and a movie, you decided to arrange the pillows for more comfortable seating, and then invoked your skeleton doll to sit behind you for a cuddle. Russ seemed almost offended when you did that.

“y’ve got a perfectly good _real_ skeleton to sit in th’ lap of right here, darlin’,” he insists, gesturing broadly to himself as he stretches out beside you.

“Nuh-uh, not happening. You’re _still_ giving me funny looks since earlier and I don’t want to be unclear here,” you assert, knowing that he’s totally taking this whole situation the wrong way. Honestly you should probably just abort mission and change out of this thing, but, well, he _wanted_ to know where this all comes from, didn’t he?

And now you kind of feel stuck, like you have to prove that you’re _not_ one of those people who fetishized monsters as soon as they started popping out from underground. Even though it might still be a _bit_ of a fetish with you…

 _Anyways_. You dig into your e-mail for the link to the movie you rented, and open it up.

“what’re we watchin’ tonight?” Russ asks from next to you, starting to pick at his own food.

“It’s sort of a horror-comedy movie that I saw on TV when I was about twelve or thirteen years old,” you explain. “It… _Kind_ of inspired all my skeleton stuff.”

He’s intrigued. “well then, let’s see it.”

You start up the movie, and he outright cackles at some parts, like when Evie dominoes the library. You cringe at all the parts with the scarabs, hugging the arms of your skeleton doll and looking away.

“not a fan o’ bugs there, darlin’?”

“Just certain ones, like, ones that poison you or drink your blood or burrow into your skin like those things,” you wince. “Or spiders. Basically _all_ spiders. They can all go _fuck_ themselves.”

Russ chuckles at that, filing away the information for another time.

Finally they get to Hamunaptra, and Evie reads the book, waking the mummy.

“The part I was going to show you is coming up,” you tell Russ.

He crooks a brow at that as Brendan Fraser runs through various tomb hallways screaming.

Once the mummy himself is finally on screen, you pause it so Russ can see.

“ _This_ is what threw my fucking barely-out-of-my-preteens me for a loop, and honestly I’m not sure if it was because I already had a sort of morbid fascination with death by then or not, but like, this was _it_.”

He sets down the plastic fork he was eating from. “what about him?” he asks, not quite getting it.

“I see _this_ evil motherfucker rock up on screen and the _first_ thing my brain does is go ‘ _wow_ , he’s _hot_ ’.”

He looks at your flustered expression, smirking and barely restraining a chuckle. You bury your face in your hands.

“ _And_ , keep in mind that I’d basically never had any attraction to anyone or any _thing_ by that point, and like, this early-days CG of a skeleton with rotting bits of fabric on him apparently _does it_ for me?” you express, gesturing frantically at the screen. “Honestly I thought there was something _wrong_ with me,” you sigh, hugging your arms over yourself.

“soo, what’d you end up doin’ about it?”

“Really nothing, at first. Just watched the rest of the movie feeling super confused is all. But then, my dad was _really_ into this game called Diablo II and the whole family played it? I had two characters in it already – an Amazon ‘cause she was tough and a Sorceress ‘cause she had magic, and because both were girls – but literally the next time we made new characters? I made a Necromancer, _just_ so I could have some skeleton groupies following me around, and I never really switched classes ever since. My main guy got to level eighty-six before I finally got so sick of looking at the game that I couldn’t play anymore.”

 _That_ , he laughs at, and that’s _fair_ , because it’s an utterly _ridiculous_ coping mechanism for learning that you have some kind of weird fetish that seems to kick in for skeletons and skeletons alone.

“anythin’ else y’ do in response t’ gettin’ yer bones rattled by a skeleton?” he asks, quirking a brow playfully.

“Well,” you think on it. “Skeleton props and things at Hallowe’en actually never did anything for me, probably because they’re _supposed_ to be dead. Not like… Ambulatory, or _sentient_ , even. These skeleton-finger gloves my doll is wearing,” you pause to show him. “I knew at least three different places I could buy a pair of these in my teens, but I never did because I guess I was worried about being _found out_ , or something. Nowadays, when actual living skeletons _aren’t_ going through my room _intentionally_ trying to find out my secret, I can just… _Have_ my skeleton stuff _in private_ , out of sight, and write a dumb story online about myself even _dating_ one.”

He makes a ‘tsk’ noise between his sharp jagged teeth as he leans against the wall behind the both of you, his body relaxing and his eye lights looking distant. “… y’think i’s shameful,” he murmurs.

“ _No!_ ” you reject instantly. “ _Listen_ – okay, I _know_ I’m probably fucking this up, but all that I’m trying to say is, this whole _whatever_ it is, that I’ve been dealing with in private for like my _whole life_ , _isn’t_ from some thrill-seeking behaviour that came about as soon as _actual real monsters_ entered the picture. Like, okay _yes_ , maybe I _thought_ it was a bit shameful, but I didn’t know you even _existed_ then! I – where are you going?”

“out.”

Nora looks up tiredly from where she’s snuggled against your ankle as Russ descends the stairs.

… Shit.

You were trying to not fuck up, and you fucked up anyways.

… Hopefully he makes it back home safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _*hides face in hands shamefully*_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Also only just recently realized that my favourite childhood movie, Ferngully? There's a scene where the bad guy is a skeleton for like the _briefest second_ , and I recall being oddly titillated (or what I now understand to be titillated) by it.
> 
> I am and have always been a skele-sinner, this fucking fandom just brought it to the forefront of my brain and now I can't stop.
> 
> Also, curse my inability to write a cooldown fic absent of complicated emotions!! Some stuff's happening, but it'll work out. Basically he's offended that you'd find being with a monster shameful, and you're an awkward duck who is completely unable to communicate.


	17. The Pickup.

“Hey. Nice ride.”

He tucks his helmet under his arm as he fiddles with the unlit Echoflower cig in his mouth.

“Need a light?”

“darlin’, you’re ‘lready providin’ me more ‘n enough just lookin’ like that,” he purrs.

At first glance, she’s _exactly_ his type. Slender frame, half her head shaved, and the half that’s not dyed a bright red. He can make out a flower tattoo on her neck, just above the collar of her black leather jacket, and a silver ball piercing high on her right cheek. There’s a slight gap between her front teeth when she smiles.

“That’s cheesy as hell, man,” she laughs, pulling a zippo from a jacket pocket and igniting it with one well-practiced move. Mutt leans down until the end of his cig catches. “Does that line actually _work_ on anybody, or what?”

“you tell me,” he rumbles after taking a hit. “first time ‘ve tried it.”

“Well, this might be your lucky night,” she muses seductively. “I came here for a girl but she hooked up with some guy instead, so I figured I’d try to do the same. But, most of ‘em in there are drunk and annoying, so I just figured I’d try my luck somewhere else.”

“well, y’ve come t’ the right parking lot,” he hums favourably.

“Only question left is - My place, or yours?”

* * *

The flower tattoo extends down her shoulder and upper arm. It winds around with thorny vines that get more tangled and dark as they move down, ending in a skull and gravestone with a date halfway down her arm. She hisses a moan as he finishes working her out of her jacket, tracing the artwork by grazing his teeth along her sensitive skin.

“You got a name there, stranger?” she hums, her breath catching as he grabs her roughly by her hip, pressing her into the wall as he starts working her belt off.

He answers by ripping the belt from her waist entirely and growling as he starts to work his hands under her shirt.

“The strong, silent type, huh? I can appreciate that.”

“which way’s the bedroom,” he growls, pinching her roughly.

“End of the- ah! The hall!”

He hikes her up over the wings of his pelvis as she crosses her legs behind him, laving his tongue and teeth over her neck as he carries her effortlessly to her bedroom.

“Never been with a _monster_ before,” she moans eagerly. “Got any magic tricks to show me?”

…

That’s what she sees, isn’t it?

He’s not equal or the same. He’s something else, something different. He’s not regarded as someone of… Of _value_.

He _had_ that before.

And he threw it away.

He didn’t deserve it.

This woman’s soul is so simple, her desires are _so simple_.

Mostly pink for sexual desire. Some cracks from a rough childhood filled in with purple. A little bravery here, even less justice there, but not enough to make much of an impact.

She only wants a monster to fuck to get back at her date. Or fuckbuddy, or _whatever_ she was to her.

She’s only into him because he’s a monster.

She’s no better than anybody else.

Not that he deserves better.

It just doesn’t _feel_ right anymore, and that bothers him.

She grips at him when he suddenly pulls away. “You stopped.”

“need to take care o’ somethin’ first. y’ got a bathroom?” he deflects.

“You’re not going to try and crawl out the window, are you?” she pouts, flicking her hair to the side as she shifts to rest on her elbows. “We’re up on the eleventh floor and the window doesn’t open. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

He smirks and presses gently against her collarbones so she flattens back onto her bed. “’ll be back before y’ know it, darlin’. jus’ stay there, lookin’ just like that,” he lies easily.

Grinning in the dim light easily, she rests against her bed and tucks her hands behind her head. “Down the hall, first door on the left. Don’t keep me waiting,” she hums.

Mutt chuckles and steps out of the room, taking a shortcut down to his bike and then another to park it inside the shed at home.

* * *

 

“Hey!” you greet, surprised. “Nora was freaking out wanting to go outside all of a sudden, I figured that meant you were back.”

He hums absently as he locks up the shed. Nora stands up against his leg and he gives her a pat. She licks his hand as her small body vibrates in greeting.

“Russ,” you sigh, sounding downtrodden. “Listen, Russ - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was ashamed of you, or of the thought of dating a monster. That’s not what I wanted to say _at all_ , I just,” you fumble, but stop and take a deep breath to clear your head. “I fuck up my words sometimes, and what I _want_ to say just doesn’t come out right. That’s not an excuse, it’s just kind of a character flaw of mine that I’m aware of and trying to work on. _Have been_ working on, for over a decade now.”

He waves a hand dismissively as he reaches to pluck the Echoflower cig from his teeth. “jus’ answer me one thing, an’ try not t’ read too much int’ it,” he grumbles.

“Sure, hit me with it.”

He turns to you, orange eye lights fixing you with a serious look. “would y’ ever consider datin’ a monster?”

“If he was the right man, yeah sure.”

You didn’t hesitate.

“I mean,” you add on. “The same hesitations that I have about dating human guys would apply, ‘cause honestly? I’ve had _more_ than my fair share of assholes,” you groan, looking off to the side as you picture _strangling_ your latest ex. “But that’d _only_ be because I’ve been burned before, so my standards are higher and I’m slower to trust. Whether or not he’s a monster doesn’t really factor into it, though.”

He’s definitely not ‘the right man’, as you put it.

He’s not even sure _what_ he feels, besides the urge to pin you to the bed and fuck you senseless.

But, at least for now, he likes the colours of your soul the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to move this story along so I can get to the Christmas arc I planned like a year ago in time for December :P


	18. The Shopping.

You unfold the shopping cart and toss a couple of reusable shopping bags in, then slip your heavy winter coat onto your shoulders. December’s finally rolled around, and the air is getting colder every day. Over on the couch, Nora gives you a sad look as she realizes that you’re leaving, and that you’re leaving without her.

“I’m not going to the pet store today, baby girl,” you reason. “You can’t come with me, I’m sorry.”

The dog continues to pout. You walk over to her and give her a couple kisses on her head and scratch her neck.

“goin’ somewhere?”

Russ peeks over at you through the doorway to the kitchen. He’s shirtless, because of course – he’d been trying to casually flirt with you since movie night, and you sigh – and wearing sweats and socks with giant holes in them.

“Just picking up a couple groceries. Need anything?”

He hums as he considers it. “gimme a minute, darlin’. i’ll come with you,” he drawls.

Of _course_ he’s coming shopping with you. He hasn’t done this before, but you know from experience that taking another person with you will cause your quick stop for some essentials to last at least twice as long.

He tucks the half-empty juice carton he’d been drinking from back into the open fridge, then shuffles into his boots by the back door to head to the shed. You close your eyes and pray that he screwed the cap back on the juice container, otherwise your whole fridge is going to smell like blood oranges again.

A minute later he’s back, dressed in an orange turtleneck sweater and his trademark fur-lined leather jacket. “got the bike out if y’want a lift,” he smirks.

“Hard pass. I don’t do motorcycles. Besides, there probably won’t be anywhere close for parking,” you reason.

“got somethin’ against my bike?”

“No, in fact if you asked me ten years ago, I might’ve been all for it. I used to like the idea of riding a motorcycle, even getting my M license and owning one myself,” you explain. “But, I guess getting old has made me cautious, and I don’t even have my driver’s license because I clam up behind the wheel. So, no motorcycles for me now. Too dangerous to get nervous on.”

“you gunna haul stuff back with that thing, then?” he gestures to your folding cart.

You huff. “And what’s wrong with _that?_ ”

“leave it,” he dismisses. “’ve got an easier way t’ haul things back.”

What, like a shortcut? Would he just do that in front of anyone? You made your peace with his shenanigans a while ago, but now you’re mildly worried about him doing magic stuff in public. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“think what’s a good idea?” he challenges.

You shake your head. “Nevermind. And I’m bringing the cart.”

Giving Nora a couple more quick pats, and scolding Russ for walking through your house with muddy boots, you pull on your own pair and shake out the folding grocery cart and head out into the cold. 

* * *

 

 

At the store, you pull the bags out and toss them in a store shopping cart, folding your own flat and sliding it onto the lower rack.

“where to first?” Russ asks from behind you.

“Just getting some groceries,” you reply. “If you wanted to go ahead for whatever you need and meet up back at the cash register, that works for me.”

“naw. think ‘ll just stick with you, darlin’.”

_Great._

You head over to produce and pick up some fresh cilantro and brussel sprouts for Sophia, your rabbit, then check for some discount bagels and rolls in the nearby bakery section. There’s only one bag left and most of them are multigrain, so you fight with yourself on it for a moment, then finally you decide the one chocolate croissant at the bottom of the mix might make it worth it. You put it into the cart.

Russ inspects the clearance rack a moment, and then grabs a package of powdered donuts for himself.

Next, you saw that the small fruit cups for kid’s lunches were on sale, so you head down the snack foods aisle and pick up a couple packages. You also grab one pack of applesauce for good measure, and eye the chocolate pudding intensely before leaving it behind.

Russ slips some of the pudding into his portion of the shopping cart, and also grabs a jar of chunky peanut butter. You faintly wonder if he’s doing that because he saw you wanted them, but then decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he just likes it too.

Next is the soda aisle. Russ disappears for a moment while you debate the merits of one sugary pop over another, then returns with a couple bottles of barbecue sauce and starts going through the chips. After claiming your respective prizes, you head down to the opposite end of the aisle to get out and on your way to the dairy and frozen foods sections.

Towards the end of the aisle is a beer section – a new addition to this store, with sliding covers to abide by the province’s rules on when you can sell beer. Russ stops to look over their selection.

“I’ll be just down this way,” you catch his attention and point.

“’ll be right there, darlin’.”

Well, you’ve got to give him credit when it’s due – Russ isn’t slowing things down at all. He seems content to follow you around and get his things on the way by. This is actually working out very well.

You hear him putting a couple beer cans into the cart behind you as you’re going through the large bricks of cheese on sale. You also hear a lady jump and shout nearby you. Looking up, she’s holding a hand over her heart and looking straight at Russ. You sigh.

“Need anything?” you ask her flatly.

She nods and hurries away to look at something you figure she’s not even interested in buying. Nodding to Russ to get his attention to follow you, you head for the yogurt section, chancing a quick glance behind you at the woman. She’s still staring, jaw agape at the skeleton’s back.

“Sorry about that,” you mutter to your tenant.

“’bout what?” he drawls lazily.

“People being rude, I guess?”

You thought this might happen having Russ with you, and you can’t help but wonder what he thinks about all this. It seems like every aisle you’ve gone in to this far went empty soon after, and people are certainly looking at him and keeping their distance. Not to mention the plain clothes security guy who’s been following you both for a while.

“Not a lot of monsters really came to Canada after you guys got out of there,” you explain. “So, I guess people around here still haven’t adjusted to the whole thing.”

He grunts his understanding as you pick out your yogurt. Putting it in the cart and pushing it slightly ahead, you suddenly stop in your tracks.

“Oh, _nog_.”

You’d briefly forgotten how December has crept up on you. With Christmas around the corner, of _course_ they’d have a ton of egg nog in stock. You absolutely can _not_ resist the siren call of the seasonal drink, and so you _have_ to put one in your cart. And then you grab a second one, _just_ to be safe.

“You ever had this stuff before?” you ask Russ idly as he grabs a bag of milk for himself.

“what’s in it?”

You shrug. “Raw egg yolks, cream, sugar, and spices I think. Probably more to it than that, but it’s soo good, and even better with a splash of rum.”

Humming, he decides to pick up a carton for himself, just to give it a try.

You grab your own milk and start pushing the cart back towards the front of the store.

“I’ve just got to grab some treats for Nora, she’s almost out,” you explain. “Was there anything else you needed here?”

Russ shrugs. “figured i’d grab some clothes if they have anythin’ good here,” he suggests.

 _Great_. That’ll only take forever. Why didn’t he say something _sooner?_ Now you’ve got cold food in the cart that’s just going to sit.

Well, the men’s section isn’t that far from pets supplies, so you agree to hit that after getting stuff for the dog.

The section is a seasonal trap for pet owners. At the very end of it facing you, is an entire wall of rawhide candy canes and other Christmas-themed chews and toys for your dog. Russ chuckles behind you as you place the third package of dog toys into the cart.

“ _someone’s_ gettin’ spoiled this gyftmas,” he comments, amused.

“Nora is _way_ too easy to buy for, I _swear_ ,” you laugh, tapping against a box of dog-safe cookies for her.

Next is the men’s section on the way back to the cash. He wanders in, barely glancing at all the clothes on display, then settles on a rack of button down flannel shirts. He takes off his jacket, tossing it on the cart, and then takes one off a hanger and pulls it on.

“how’s it suit me?” he asks you.

Well, it fits his lanky arms, but it falls a bit short for his height. “Go one size up,” you instruct him.

The next one fits a lot better. The sleeves aren’t much looser on him, and it’s the right length.

“That one works,” you nod approvingly.

He puts it in the cart and then grabs two more in the same size, but different colours. You chuckle.

“somethin’ tickle yer funny bone, darlin’?” he drawls next to you.

“Was just thinking that you shop like I do,” you point out. “Find one that works and then buy three in the same colour. Was there anything else you needed?”

“can’t think of anythin’,” he shrugs.

“… Really?”

He crooks a brow bone at you. “you seem surprised.”

You roll your eyes. “What’s your shoe size?” you ask.

He barks a laugh. “darlin’, if y’ wanted t’ know my _size_ -“

You grab a pack of socks from a display nearby and shove them into his ribs before he can finish that sentence. “ _Shut up_. And Merry Christmas or whatever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCKING FINALLY!!! I've been sitting on this chapter most of the month, just feeling dragged by work and just depressed in general. I feel like I haven't gotten anything done, let alone this monstrosity of a chapter, but I'm pushing through it, folks. Or doing my best to, at any rate. Let me know how this reads, I think it probably goes into too much depth for my own personal shopping habits, but I had to somehow set up for Christmas and make the joke at the end. Soon, hopefully, I will be able to open the floodgates on Gyftmas chapters, which will end... Probably next September, at the rate I've been going XD It's anyone's guess, really!
> 
> I've divorced Tumblr, so even though my blog apparently still exists there, you won't be seeing any new posts from me. Instead, in the mean time, you can find me on:  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Anatares)  
> [Discord](https://discord.gg/fdWkqdJ) (links to my NYD Chat server)  
> [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/LadyAnatares)
> 
> I don't yet know what will become my new main (I am a bit adverse to Twitter honestly), but that's what I've got so far.


	19. Gyftmas at the Lodge: The Morning.

Nora yawns adorably, stretching before she moves to sit on the corner of the bed, crying and tapping her front paws in anxious wait. You grumble sleepily at the sound, curling deeper into your blankets.

Mutt rolls onto his side as he wakes up, facing the dog. “y’need out to do yer business, nora?” he drawls.

The tiny dog makes a soft “boof” sound in affirmative.

He hauls himself out of bed to see to the chihuahua, careful not to shift the mattress too much so as to avoid waking you.

* * *

 

“… Nora?”

You get up in slight panic and alarm once you realize you can no longer hear your dog’s early morning protests. Taking a second to shift your nightgown back down before removing your blanket, you also realize that Russ is no longer next to you. On your way out of the bedroom you pop in to the bathroom for a tissue to wipe your nose. There’s a chill in the house this morning and your face has decided to be annoying about it.

Sure enough, you get downstairs and your suspicions are confirmed as you see Russ looking out the back door at Nora enjoying her winter wonderland in the yard. He looks back at you as he hears you approach him, stepping slightly to one side to allow you some room to watch the tiny dog prance around in powdery snow that’s too high for her legs.

“mornin’,” he greets.

“Hey, morning,” you respond in kind, rolling your shoulders to try and clear some of the stiffness from sleep. You hear a couple pops and decide to stop doing that as Russ’ brows immediately arch in response. “You didn’t have to let her out for me,” you finally say. “I was going to get her in a minute.”

“figured i’d let ya sleep in, darlin’, seein’ as it’s gyftmas an’ all,” he rumbles.

Gyftmas? “Don’t you mean Christmas?”

Right, it’s Christmas Day.

“monsters call it somethin’ different,” he shrugs.

“I figured that.”

There’s no malice or grumpiness in your tone when you say that, since Nora let you get a couple more hours of sleep anyways _and_ since you’re now excited about Christmas morning.

“Hey, do you mind keeping an eye on her for another couple of minutes or so?” you ask.

“sure thing, darlin’,” he easily agrees.

With that, you disappear upstairs to quickly get changed into more presentable clothing, then bring down your laptop, your phone, and some tape to set up on the arm of the recliner couch. You tape your phone to the back of the laptop, which has been opened as a sort of makeshift stand, adjusting the focus on the phone’s camera. Once that’s set up, you head to your hiding spot.

In it, you have a stocking for Nora, and some toys and treats to stuff it with.

Making quick work of the stocking, you head back to the livingroom and get the phone to start recording a video of yourself on the floor.

“she’s at th’ door,” Russ announces from the kitchen. You figured she’d get sick of the cold sooner or later.

“You can let her in!” you call back.

Nora scurries into the livingroom and immediately finds you with her stocking. She excitedly squeaks in delight as you show it to her, little nub of a tail wagging side to side frantically as she alternates between sniffing at her gift and licking your hands and/or face.

“Merry Christmas Nora!” you cheer excitedly, eager for her to see all her presents.

At this, she snatches one of the toys from the top of the stocking, racing away to run in circles around you while squeaking it in excitement. Russ, out of frame of your phone camera, chuckles and takes a seat at the far end of the couch.

“Nora, that’s not all!” you call after the chihuahua.

Nora jumps up onto the couch to show Russ her new toy, play growling as she entices him into a brief tug of war.

You sigh and shake the stocking. This seems to get the dog’s attention. She hops down and sits at attention as she waits for you to show her the next part of her surprise.

Next down in the oversized sock is a bag of dog chews. They’re long sticks of rawhide with a stripe of a red chicken-flavouring in a spiral, making them look like candy canes. Nora’s paws prance in front of her as she vibrates with barely-restrained eagerness.

“I’m going to give you one after we’re done here, okay?” you promise.

Next down is a bag of three brand new tennis balls with squeakers. That one you open, and she snatches one from your hand before you can toss it for her to chase. She hops back up on the couch to show Russ again, her tail going a mile a minute as she squeaks it endlessly.

You purse your lips at that. “Russ, you didn’t want to be in this video, did you?”

You hadn’t really asked him since Christmas morning is kind of your tradition with Nora, but if she’s going to keep involving him in it, then you guess there’s no harm in making it official.

He arches a hard brow as he considers your question. “don’t need t’ be, i figured this’s your thing,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, but it feels like Nora’s making you a part of it anyways, and it occurs to me that if you’re here on the floor with me then she’ll stop going out of frame.”

He grins at that, giving an acknowledging nod. You scoot over on the carpet to make room for him as he stands up and moves to sit next to you, scooping up Nora to bring with him. She’s got too much energy to be carried right now, but once he’s stretched out on the carpet she settles across his lap, squeaking at one of her new Christmas toys.

Last but not least, there’s a small bag of an assortment of dog safe peanut butter cookies stuffed into the toe of the stocking. They’ve been shaped and decorated in line with the holiday, with snowflakes, holly and bells, and ornaments.

Nora switches from Russ’ lap to yours as she’s all over the bag, sniffing at it like crazy. You untie the curled ribbon from around the mouth of the bag as she whimpers impatiently.

“ _Okay okay_ , you can have _one_ for now,” you promise, taking a snowflake cookie from the bag and offering it to her. She snatches it in her mouth and then turns away, moving back to Russ’ lap but then turning around to lay the upper half of her body on yours. It’s there, stretched out across both of you, where she decides to settle in and crunch at her cookie.

Both of you are content to let Nora have some lap time as she has her treat. Without turning to you, Russ has a question.

“what’re your plans for the rest of the day?” he asks.

You shrug. “I boiled some eggs last night so that I could make myself deviled eggs this morning – you can have some if you want, I probably won’t eat them all. Besides that though, it’s just bad food and video games the rest of the day for me.” The perfect holiday.

“that’s it?” He seems surprised. “no family to go see, no parties to get to?”

“Not really. Why?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gunna be kind of a long self-contained arc here, hence the title. I've been planning this since LAST Christmas, and finally I get to post it :P
> 
> New chapters every day until Christmas at least, and then we'll see however long it takes to wrap up.


	20. Gyftmas at the Lodge: The Party.

“Russ, I’m _really_ not sure it’s a good idea that I go to your family’s Christmas party.”

As soon as you’d told him that you didn’t have any family to go see, he’d taken out his phone and texted Y/N. She seemed thrilled at the idea of seeing him again, and surprised he’d ask if he could bring someone with him.

You finish putting a huge carrot in the cage for your rabbit, petting her head and closing it up before Nora gets too antsy about the bunny getting so much attention.

“they’re in’erested in what i’ve been up to lately,” he shrugs. “’sides, it gets you somewhere doin’ somethin’ more celebratory than cookies an’ rimworld.”

You snicker at that, then sigh. “… I don’t really want to leave Nora alone in the house on Christmas day. Sorry if that’s silly, but she’s basically my baby and I know she’d just sit on the couch and sulk the whole time if I went out. I can’t leave my kid alone on Christmas or something,” you attempt to excuse.

At that, he brings up his phone and fires off another text.

 *** can the dog come too? an i don’t mean me,** he texts.

*** She has a dog? Yeah, bring them too!**

“seems y’ can bring ‘er with you,” he announces.

“Really?” you hesitate. “She might bother the heck out of everyone.”

“’m sure most of ‘em wouldn’t be bothered. nora’s good company,” he grins, going to scratch her neck. She stands on her back legs and sets her front paws on his arm instead, licking said arm as high up as she can reach. “’sides, she might have fun runnin’ around the lodge meeting some new folks.”

He _is_ slightly worried about the cannibal bros, but if he thought Y/N couldn’t keep their dark appetites in check by now he wouldn’t have suggested it.

“Well,” you pause. “I don’t know…”

“they got booze over there,” he sweetens the deal. He’d love to see what kind of affect monster alcohol would have on you, actually. “an’ this way y’ won’t be the _only_ one tryin’ to polish off the three bins of cookies y’ made.”

You laugh at that, then sigh. “Are you asking me to go because you want to get me drunk? I don’t _do_ drunk,” you assert.

“i’ll cut you off before y’ get too blitzed,” he swears.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“so you’re comin’?”

“Yeah,” you relent, sighing. “Let me just get my stuff together and I’ll go with you. Are we taking your bike? I mean, is it far?”

“i know a shortcut,” he chuckles.

“Of _course_ you do.”

‘I’ll go _with you_.’ That tells him everything he needs to know about why you gave in to the decision. You think he might need your support because he doesn’t want to go it alone.

… Well… You’re not _entirely_ off the mark, but he’d intended for a Gyftmas day out to be a treat for _you_.

If it was just him alone he wouldn’t have bothered.

“there _is_ a dress code,” he points out, now that you’ve agreed to go.

“For _Christmas Day?_ ”

“do you have a holiday-appropriate sweater y’ can bring? the uglier th’ better.”

* * *

Nora barks a surprised chirp in your arms as the empty blackness of the void fades around you, revealing a scene of white. You squint against the daylight as you take in your new surroundings.

There’s a lot of fresh white snow on the ground around the huge pine lodge sitting just ahead of you, with a backdrop of forest and even mountains in the distance. The air is fresh and cool, not too cold even without your coat. Some of the trees nearby have been enthusiastically decorated, and the lodge itself is set up with dozens of strings of lights all flashing in different colours and repeating patterns, even during the daytime. Nearby there’s a couple of inflated skeleton Halloween decorations re-dressed for the season with red and blue Santa hats and matching scarves. They’ve been posed to look like they’re flexing. There’s a third one a little further away, posed mid-lunge with the arms sporting a dark purple set and with a pair of large jagged scars drawn over the left eye socket in sharpie.

“Okay…” you laugh awkwardly. Kind of a little weird for Christmas, but you figured there’d be skeletons here if Russ is related to them. Clearly they just want to see themselves be part of the holiday.

Russ moves ahead of you to get the door. You follow hot on his heels with Nora still grappled. She’s now sniffing at the air trying to catch all the scents in the area that must be brand new to her.

The door swings open, revealing two new skeletons who instantly lean against either side of the doorway as they examine you.

“y/n said you were bringing a date,” the shorter one leers at you. “but _damn_ , mutt, she’s a _snack_.” Did his one eye light just change into the shape of a heart?

“Don’t say that around _Axe_ , he might take you literally,” the taller one scolds, winking at you.

Then the shorter one stands away from the doorway, looking confused or annoyed about something as his eye goes back to normal. “she’s _ace?_ mutt, i’d never guessed you’d find a girlfriend only for her to be ace.”

You look up at Russ uncomfortably. He shrugs and then jerks his head towards the open doorway, moving to head inside. You scoff.

“ _No_ , Russ, that wasn’t a ‘wordlessly walk away from me and ignore the situation’ look, that was a ‘please explain what the hell is going on and why these two skeletons are undressing me with their eyes’ look,” you huff.

He stops in the doorway and turns to you. And the two skeletons waste no time at all fawning over him, pressing themselves against his body, as if they’re like, trying to _seduce him?_ He just stands immobile as he gruffly nods to each in turn.

“lust,” he nods to the short one with the fur-lined vest and cut-off tank top. “charm,” he nods to the taller one with the longsleeved black top exposing an inexplicably pink belly??

“… _Seriously?_ ”

“i’s warmer inside,” he directs, heading in himself.

Sighing, you and Nora move past the two horndogs in the entryway, wondering what in the hell kind of party you’ve just signed yourself up for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of _course_ it'd be Lust and Charm at the door to greet your demisexual ass XD I headcanon that when they run a CHECK on a person, it gives them a bit more info regarding their orientation and stuff, not just their HP and LV.


	21. Gyftmas at the Lodge: The Cookies.

“Mu- Err,  _Rus!_  It’s really good to see you!” the landlady and only other human at the party greets him.

He’d taken off his boots at the entrance, which was  _telling_. Two months in and you’re  _still_  scolding him to keep them off your tables. She leans into him for a hug right away, and Russ leans down to wrap his arms around her carefully.

“… you look good,” he rumbles softly. “where’s m’lord?”

She jerks a thumb behind her to a bright room with a lot of competing loud voices and clattering noises. “He’s in the kitchen trying to out-bake the others with the best Gyftmas cookies. What else is new?” she laughs. “Oh, is this _____? Oh my gosh, your dog!”

Nora lurches in your arms as she approaches you, eager to get first greeting by the new person. She accepts the whole face-kisses and offers her scratches in return, which has Nora’s tiny nub of a tail going a mile a minute against your arm.

“Uhm, hi, you must be Y/N,” you greet, shifting Nora to one arm so you can offer a handshake. “I’m _____, and this little terror is Nora.”

She takes your hand gently in hers, then notices the recycled plastic tote bag on your shoulder. “Oh, you didn’t need to bring anything.”

“No, I had to,” you sigh, sending a playful scowl in Russ’ general direction. “He’s convinced that I’ll eat all of these cookies by myself if I didn’t bring them to share.” He’s not totally wrong, either. “They’re not decorated, but they’re a mix of gingerbread and shortbread.”

Her eyes light up and she seems excited about your dumb cookies. “I could take your dog if you want to take them to the kitchen? I’m sure the boys will be happy to decorate them for us!”

“I was actually hoping it’d be okay if I set her down?” you ask. “She’s not big on being held by anyone but me – or Russ, apparently – and she’s restless enough as it is. Now, she’s going to want to greet people and explore the house a little bit, is that okay? I mean, she shouldn’t get into anything, just sniff around and lick people. Oh, and she’s housebroken, so she won’t mess in the house. She’ll get my attention when she needs to go.”

“That should be fine,” she forgives easily. “I’m sure they’ll love her!”

Sighing in slight relief with her permission, you set the wiggly little rascal down on the floor. She instantly launches off, paws skittering across the hardwood as she finds someone new to harass.

You watch after anxiously as she discovers someone sitting on the couch – someone in an orange hoodie that made the mistake of stretching out on it. She easily hops up onto his chest to lick his entire face while he chuckles in surprise at the small black dog appearing from seemingly nowhere.     

“i’ll watch her. go drop off your cookies,” Russ says from behind you.

Did he go see his brother already? Either way, you figure you can trust him. Nora can be a handful at times, especially in new environments, but he’s been around long enough to get to know her impulsive nature.

You nod and he lets you go, posting up in the same doorway you pass through.

The kitchen…

Is  _chaos_.

There are no fewer than  _five_  skeletons in here, all rambunctiously cooking and baking around each other. One tall one is hooting about his sugar cookies, while another one that  _honestly looks just like him_ , but taller and with long jagged teeth, brags more modestly about his. There’s a short skeleton in all blue who is beaming at his own creation as he tries messily to ice them hot while still wearing the oven mitts. Then there’s another one that looks just like  _him_ , only in dark purple colours with two dark crack going through his left eye socket. He’s busying himself with dumping every spice that he can into his mixing bowl, cackling the whole time. Finally, there’s another tall skeleton, broad-shouldered in black and red, with his own cracked socket, cussing out the rest of them for daring to think they could  _ever_ measure up to his standards.

You recognize the first one and the two shorter guys from the inflated skeletons in Christmas getup outside. The one with crooked teeth and the one barking orders are new.

“Hey! Is… Uh, do you guys mind if I just leave these cookies here?”

All five heads turn to look at you as soon as you open your mouth. You set the bag down on the one patch of countertop that hasn’t been utterly consumed by frantic (and apparently competitive) baking efforts of the gathered skeleton monsters. The one in blue is the first to speak up.

“NEW HUMAN FRIEND, YOU BROUGHT HOMEMADE COOKIES?!?”

… He could tone it down a  _little_ , couldn’t he?

“Yeah, uhm, they’re not  _super_  traditional, but-“

The other exuberant tall one interjects as he notices your bag. “I WANT TO SEE! I AM SURE THEY’RE DELICIOUS!”

He’s the first one to invade your personal space by tearing open the bag and popping open the first container to find…

“… NINJAS?” he guesses, holding up one that’s doing a high kick.

“Yeah,” you fluster. “I got this set of ninja cutters for Christmas – I guess that’s Gyftmas to you guys – one year, and I rarely get to use them? So, I just cut out a bunch of ninjas. Sorry they’re not decorated, but they don’t travel well if they’re pre-iced anyways.”

Little boy blue is sticking his head in the bag next (Does he look familiar, or is that just your imagination?), with the one with crooked teeth looming overhead curiously.

“THERE ARE TWO DIFFERENT KINDS, TOO!”

“Yeah, gingerbread and shortbread. I figured I had to make both. Plus,” you say, holding a pair up, one of each in different poses. “Now some are white and some are brown, see? Equal opportunity ninjas.”

… No one gets your dumb joke. You sigh in defeat. Skeletons only really come in one colour, after all.

“… MAY I TRY ONE?” the tallest skeleton fidgets as he asks. He sounds startlingly similar to the first guy.

“Yeah, knock yourself out,” you say, offering them up to him.

He munches the head off of one hungrily, but then pauses as the flavour hits his mouth. “… THESE ARE DELICIOUS!”

“It’s just a pretty standard recipe off the internet,” you shrug.

The rest of them try your cookies with mixed reactions, most of them good though.

“WHERE ARE OUR MANNERS?” the first one suddenly gapes, taking both your hands in his orange gloved ones. “MY NAME IS PAPYRUS! WELCOME TO OUR HOME!”

“Thanks. _____,” you introduce yourself.

“I AM ALSO PAPYRUS!” the super tall one with long jagged teeth announces. “BUT YOU MAY CALL ME CROOKS IF THAT IS EASIER FOR YOU!”

Two guys named Papyrus at this party? That look pretty well the same?

Hang on, didn’t Russ tell you at some point that his actual name is Papyrus? Yeah, actually, he’d signed as much on the rental agreement when he first moved in to the shed.

You point at the tall one in black and red that seems to be permanently scowling at you. “Are you a Papyrus too? I’m just getting a sense of a theme here.”

He grits his pointed teeth. “EDGE.”

Another nickname, huh? Grumbly goth aesthetic aside, you have some doubts that their parents would actually name their kid Edge. Then again, Papyrus.

The shorter ones greet you next. “MY NAME IS BLUE, AND THIS IS BLACK,” he greets you, blue oven mitts still on. “DO YOU MIND IF WE DECORATE SOME OF THE COOKIES YOU BROUGHT?”

“Yeah, knock yourselves out.”

The one he’d introduced as Black pointedly ignores both you and your offering of ninja cookies, instead stomping his way over to Russ still posted up in the doorway. Russ straightens from his position and looks a bit sheepish as he starts getting yelled at by the small scarred skeleton in purple.

You go to take a step forward but are stopped when a long arm finds its way onto your shoulders.

“you’re mutt’s friend, right?” he greets, smelling like smoke and honey. You bat the air around him in response to the smoke. “i’m stretch. why don’t i introduce you to the others?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good gods there's so many skeletons in this house XD


	22. Gyftmas at the Lodge: The Multiverse.

It seems like some of them have retreated to a study on the second floor to have a quiet smoke and some drinks. Nora has made her way up here too, and is greeting everyone in turn.

Lust and Charm are up here, leaned against the back wall and speaking in low voices to each other. You don’t quite know what their deal is yet considering that introduction at the door, but Lust catches you looking and sends you a wink that is anything but chaste. You roll your eyes and sigh.

The other members of this private party include a guy with a blue hoodie and a perpetually tired look on his face, a guy with a heavy black jacket with a tawny fur lining and red eye lights that scan you with interest, a guy that looks a lot like the first guy, except a lot bigger and with a Gyftmas-themed beanie on his head, and the landlady again who is currently having her hands licked by a Nora standing against her knee.

“this’s your dog?” the one in the black hoodie addresses. As soon as his gruff voice speaks, Nora switches to his knee to stand against.

“Yeah, that’s Nora. She’s a bit of a social butterfly at parties, so she’s going to come say hi to everyone.” You look apprehensively up at Y/N again. “And you’re _sure_ she’s okay?”

“Of course!” She sends you a look like ‘why wouldn’t it be okay’? You just shrug your response. Sometimes people aren’t thrilled about an overly friendly dog harassing them.

The tired one approaches you, jutting out a hand for a handshake. “nice to meet you. name’s sans.”

“_____,” you greet, reaching out to take his hand.

And then you don’t. Instead, you shrug awkwardly and slide your hands into your pockets. He chuckles.

“that’s no way to greet a new friend,” he observes teasingly.

“Neither is that whoopee cushion strapped to your palm.”

He slides it off with the thumb of his other hand, laughing a bit as he tucks it away in the pocket of his basketball shorts. “fair. you’re a quick one.”

The one in black approaches you next. “red. can i get ya something to drink?” He throws you a seductive wink not unlike Lust did just a moment ago. You shake your head.

“Russ said he’d pick something out for me. He knows what I like,” you inform him. “Sorry.”

“’russ’, eh?” Stretch chuckles from where he’s settled in leaning against a bookshelf to the side. “you must _love_ that.”

You turn and there’s Russ, having been released from that endless rant his brother was giving him downstairs. “You okay?”

He seems surprised you’d ask. “why wouldn’ i be?”

“Your brother was just giving you a lot of crap, last I saw.”

He rumbles, amused by your concern. Actually, he seems a bit happier for it?

“that’s mutt and black,” Stretch explains half-heartedly behind you. “s’ just how they get along.”

Nora loops around the desk to greet the skeleton in the beanie, and you realize he hasn’t given you his name yet. You step over to him and hold out a hand. “Hey, I didn’t catch your name.”

He snorts, ignoring your outstretched palm in favour of giving your dog some neck scratches. “sans,” he drawls.

“axe,” the other Sans announces. “he _also_ goes by axe to avoid, uh, confusion.”

Your theory is starting to come together. “Red, weird question – are you also a Sans?”

He snickers in the middle of the sip he was taking. “how’d you figure?”

“Just getting the sense of a theme – if I’m not going crazy, that is,” you think aloud, Russ discretely handing you your first drink. “Let’s see – Stretch and Charm, are those nicknames as well? Are you actually Papyrus’ too?”

Charm giggles as he nods, while Stretch fixes you with a suspicious look as he raises an unlit cigarette to his teeth.

“Then, if _that’s_ right,” you turn back to Lust. “If you’re a Sans, and Blue and Black downstairs are also Sans, then…”

“what are you getting at?” Sans in the blue hoodie warns.

“you said she was quick,” Red nudges him, but he’s got the same look.

“Did your parents have like… Two sets of _sextuplets_ and get bored of naming after the first one each time?” you try and figure out. There’s definitely _some_ sort of theme going on here.

Lust does an actual spit take. Stretch drops his cigarette and busts up laughing. Red drops to his knees as he starts laughing too. Sans looks relieved, and Axe looks pissed.

“ain’t _no way_ i’m related to this pack o’ assholes,” Axe growls.

“try again, _____,” Red invites.

Okay, so the sextuplets idea is out. A lightbulb goes off. “Wait- is it like a multiverse thing? The same pair of brothers over and over?”

You could almost hear a pin drop with how quiet the room suddenly gets. Lust and Charm straighten, seemingly content to watch the shenanigans unfold, and Axe grins like a Cheshire cat, while Sans takes a warning step towards you.

“ **how did you know**.”

You startle slightly as a hand grips your shoulder, looking up to see that it’s Russ. His eye is flaring orange as he looks past you at Sans. Then you feel paws against your leg as Nora looks apprehensively up at you. She doesn’t like the sudden change in energy in the room either.

Sans is definitely threatening you, so you’re probably right, but Russ is at your back protecting you. You take a nonchalant sip of your drink.

“Holy shit, Russ what is this?” It’s like cherries and vanilla and makes your whole mouth tingle.

He doesn’t answer. So much for distracting anyone.

“It was just a lucky guess,” you dismiss. “And like, one of the first movies I ever bought for myself was ‘The One’ with Jet Li. It’s all about a multiverse and like, there’s jumping between universes with lots of different versions of the main character. If you’re worried I’m going to blab to anybody, who would I even tell? ‘I met a bunch of skeletons at a Christmas party that all came from different universes?’ Yeah, _that’ll_ go far,” you finish dryly, taking another sip of your drink.

“Geez,” Y/N chuckles once the tension bleeds out of the room. “It took me months to figure that one out.”

“It helped that Crooks introduced himself as Papyrus right after Papyrus did, and I already know this one,” you nudge Russ gently as he cautiously lets go of your shoulder. “Plus I’m a fucking _nerd_ so, yeah.”

“never heard of that movie,” Red observes. “what’s it about?”

“ _Uhh_.”

You gulp awkwardly, scanning the room. These guys were all just about ready to throw down. Watching a movie about killing their alternates to gain power seems _very_ ill-advised.

“Actually, it’s a bad, awful, _terrible_ movie,” you deflect. “ _Don’t_ watch it. Like, _ever_.”

The _last_ thing you want to do here at Y/N’s Gyftmas party is turn it into _Battle Royale_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops XD


	23. Gyftmas at the Lodge: The Pickle.

“Why is Edge staring down the tree like it owes him money?” you ask, observing the tall skeleton viscerally shaking it down with only his menacing gaze.

You’re on the couch a couple minutes later, the landlady and party host on one side of you and Lust on the other. Opposite you is another sofa with Red and Stretch, and Sans is lounging on a nearby beanbag.

“Oh, _pfft_ ,” Y/N chuckles. “We have a sort of Gyftmas tradition that we started last year. See, there’s this pickle-“

“Sorry to interrupt, did you just say ‘pickle’?” What in the world is Russ’ booze doing to your hearing?

“Yep! So, it’s a plastic pickle, and it’s the exact same shade of green of the tree. So, I hide it in the tree, and whoever finds it gets a prize.”

…

That is _hilarious_.

You want in on this action.

You heft yourself to your feet, taking a centering breath, then give the tree a glance over.

There’s an object tucked into the lower branches of the tree. You just barely see it, but the bumpy texture against the fake green pine needles sort of helps to give it away.

You grab it and withdraw it. “Is this it?”

It certainly _looks_ like a pickle.

Edge huffs and puffs behind you, shaking with barely restrained rage. “ _WHAT?!?_ ”

“Holy shit, you found that _fast_ ,” Y/N blinks. “I thought I hid it pretty well.”

“I’m just really good at finding stuff sometimes,” you shrug, attempting nonchalance.

You feel eyes on your back. Turning, Red and Sans are looking at each other in silence. Edge looks like he’s about to explode. Lust just grins and winks at you.

“claim your prize, kitten,” he chuckles.

“What _is_ the prize, anyways?” You forgot to even ask.

Y/N flusters as she laughs. “Well, last year Edge _sort of_ established that it was a kiss under the mistletoe with me,” she explains.

“I-I-, _NO I DIDN’T!_ ” he shouts, sounding pained.

Your brows furrow as you think on this. “Is that like… Something we should do, then?” you ask awkwardly. You weren’t really up for kissing anyone today.

Red laughs. “ _yes_. definitely yes.”

“HE MEANS _NO!_ ” Edge barks.

“i mean, no,” he corrects. But his broad grin tells you otherwise. Does he have a gold tooth like Russ? Huh.

You turn to Edge. “I can forfeit my prize to you, if you want? Here,” you say, offering him the plastic Christmas pickle.

He looks at it like you just offered him one of your dog’s fresh turds.

“Or… Not?” you blink.

He throws his arms up in the air, making a strangled sound, then stomps his way out of the livingroom area and up the stairs.

“now you’ve done it,” Stretch comments.

Red shifts himself out of his seat next to him. “i’ll go check on ‘im.”

Y/N goes to get up too. “I could talk to him,” she gently offers.

“naw. stay here an’ enjoy your party, y/n,” Red winks at her, then disappears.

“What just happened?” you ask, a little tipsy and a lot lost.

“you bruised his ego, that’s all,” Sans shrugs from his bean bag chair.

“Sorry…,” you apologize. “Er, I should go apologize to Edge, shouldn’t I?” You’ve barely spoken to the guy and now you seem to have offended him a great deal. Why does anybody ever let you outside?

Stretch waves a hand dismissively. “he’ll get over it, don’t worry about it.”

“yeah. come sit and tell us about yourself, kitten,” Lust invites, patting the open space on the couch you left behind.

You give him a flat look, then go sit in Red’s old spot instead. Stretch chuckles.

“so what do you do for a living, _____?” Stretch asks.

“Well,” you sigh. “Right now I make pizza part-time at a little chain store near me, but I used to work in IT.”

You ramble on for a bit about what you did working in IT, and how you were the acting IT manager and main support person for the department. They decided to restructure the department one day and you _were_ the department, so you got laid off.

“And barely three months after I won the house in the separation with my ex,” you burp.

“That sucks! So what happened?” Y/N asks.

“I got three months of severance pay, which was generous, but I spent most of that time depressed. Saw a therapist a couple times with the last of my benefits. After, I tried to go to school on loans and work part-time, but the loans weren’t enough and I cracked under the pressure. I had to drop out. Still work part-time, but now I have to rent my house out to make ends meet.”

Well, if you had any tenants besides Russ right now, it’d be easier to do that. You’ve actually been bleeding money again, but you’re a bit set on trying to fill the rooms for January. Russ seems fine where he is, although maybe you could set him up in the basement office at some point? It doesn’t have a window, but at least it’s warmer than the shed.

You turn your head right as he enters the room. “Hey Russ, what do you think about- Oh, thanks,” you interrupt yourself as he hands you a second drink. Then you frown as you look at the cups you have in each hand. “I’m not done with the first one yet though?”

“jus’ try it,” he grins.

You decide to take a sip. This one is like chocolate and caramel and it makes your toes tingle. “Why’s all the monster booze so tasty?” you ask aloud.

You’re a bit more tipsy than you’d like already, and you startle slightly as you turn to the cast of skeletons (and landlady) that you’ve kind of been divulging your entire life story to this whole time. You look up at Russ as your brows come together in a scowl.

“This stuff is making me _SOCIALL_ , how _DARE_ ,” you protest, pouting.

“you’ve got some interestin’ stories t’ tell, darlin’. an’ you needed out of th’ house,” he insists. “’sides, nora seems t’ be enjoying herself.”

As if on cue, Nora launches herself onto the couch in pursuit of your lap, sniffing curiously at your two drinks. Your dog-reflexes are well-practiced, however, so she gets neither a sip of booze nor does she spill either cup. You hold them both high above your head as she licks the crap out of your nose.

“Ugh, _Nora!_ ” you begin to scold.

Just then, Papyrus and Blue burst into the living area, half-dressed in winter wear and smiling ear-hole to ear-hole.

“WE’RE HEADING OUTSIDE TO BUILD A SNOW FORT!” Blue announces. “DOES ANYONE WANT TO COME WITH US?”

… You haven’t built a snow fort since you were a kid. The nostalgia kicks in and urges you to action.

You move to stand, Nora having to shuffle off your lap as she realizes you aren’t picking her up right now. Downing the last of your first drink, you set the other aside. “I’m down. Who all is coming outside?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a joke here about how it's the first time Reader's heard about a game called 'find the pickle' that _wasn't_ about some sex thing, but I couldn't figure out where to work it in. This chapter got away from me for a bit. Also I was going to have Reader tease the landlady by being more drunk and kissing her anyways, but then I decided against it. That wouldn't suit my personality, sorry XD
> 
> I have a chapter for tomorrow too and then I'm all out of writing that I've saved up for Christmas :P The arc isn't over ( _Gods_ no, I have too much planned), I'm just out of stuff for right now *shrug*


	24. Gyftmas at the Lodge: The Fort.

“y’ want me to head home an’ get your coat?”

Mutt is a little concerned about you in the cold snow with just your sweater on.

You shrug nonchalantly. “My gloves and hat would be enough. It’s not that bad out,” you tell him. “Besides, my coat is too big and bulky, it’ll only slow me down.”

“i don’ think you should risk gettin’ sick,” he insists.

You cross your arms and give him a look that can only be described as Determined.

“I’m _Canadian_. I was forged in minus forty winters and walked to school in snowbanks higher than my head,” you assert.

“uphill, both ways?”

“You know it,” you snicker. “Trust me, my immune system can handle this.”

“well, a’right.”

A shortcut later, and you’re equipped with your gloves and hat. Immediately you start looking for a good spot for the fort, and Blue and Papyrus suggest between two pine trees that are close together. Once the three of you have the location picked out, you start looking for big pieces of hardened snow to build up the front wall with.

Mutt lights up an Echoflower cig just as soon as he notices Stretch approaching him.

“she’s cute, huh?” Stretch comments, lighting his own cigarette. “so, what’s the story there?”

He ignores his copy.

Stretch chuckles and takes a puff.

“He’s attracted to her, but she’s a bit of a grey area to me,” Charm announces from out of seemingly nowhere. Mutt turns and glowers at him. “I can’t get a solid reading, nor can my brother.”

“she said once she’s ‘demisexual’,” he remembers. “means she’s not in’erested in folks she doesn’ know.”

“… She _does_ seem to have a particular fondness for _skeletons_ , though,” Charm reveals with a wink. “And, _your_ voice in particular.”

He kind of figured that out for himself already, and shrugs.

“sans doesn’t like the look of her soul,” Stretch reveals. “plus he’s still miffed that she figured us out so quick.”

“Where do you figure all those cracks came from?” Charm asks curiously.

“and where do you think that _exp_ and _love_ came from?” Stretch asks more seriously.

Mutt’s never been bothered by your stats before, but Stretch is pushing his patience. “don’ think a love of _two_ and exp of _five_ is much t’ write home about. she might’ve gotten into some fights as a kid, ‘s what i figured.”

“yeah, but your hp,” Stretch counters. “she hits you once with intent and you’re _dust_ , mutt. you have a deathwish livin’ like that?”

“talkin’ to you makes me wish i already _was_ dust,” he snaps back.

“why’re you so protective of her, anyways?” the hoodie-clad skeleton continues his interrogation.

“she saved m’ brother’s life.”

Stretch’s hand freezes as he goes to tap the ashes off his cig into the snow. Then he brings it back to his mouth for a long drag.

“how?” he demands.

“how many cookies of hers did you eat?” Mutt counters.

“none yet. didn’t want to be visiting the bathroom as humans do before dinner,” he grimaces.

“you might,” Mutt chuckles, shrugging. “you might not. there’s somethin’ different ‘bout this one.”

“… A mage?” Charm asks curiously.

“not quite. not sure yet, either. just _somethin’_ special, s’ all i can figure.”

 

* * *

 

Not long into building the snow fort with Papyrus and Blue, Red and Sans had started building their own opposite yours and not too far away. They’re also using magic to move the snow around, which is totally cheating and you’re a bit upset with them for that. You think they plan for a fight.

You inspect the masonry of your own fort for a moment when a snowball hits you square in the back. Theory confirmed, it’s go time.

“SANS!” Papyrus screeches when he sees that you’ve been hit. “THAT’S _EXTREMELY_ RUDE!”

You waste no time in scooping up a snowball of your own to fire back. This is kicking off _right now_.

“Take cover!” you shout, throwing yourself behind the snow fort and balling up more snowballs. Blue and Papyrus both join you behind the barely two foot tall wall of snow boulders and slush you’ve just spent a lot of time building.

“WHAT DO WE DO?” Blue asks eagerly.

“We fight back! Take these, keep making them, and fire them back at the other two,” you frantically direct, peeking your head over the wall and throwing a snowball that curves away from Sans suspiciously. It was a blind throw, but it was on course for a direct hit otherwise. You’re rewarded by a snowball you catch with your eye. Red hacks a laugh.

Papyrus sees this and scoffs. “OF _COURSE_ MY BROTHER WOULD USE HIS MAGIC TO CHEAT,” he announces. “NO PROBLEM, THOUGH! WE CAN STILL DEFEAT THEM WITH _VOLUME!_ ”

He starts frantically making snowballs with Blue, and you sit against the fort wall and look up at the trees.

“Actually,” you grin. “I have a plan.”

Blue looks up at you as you pull out your phone. “WHAT DO YOU THINK WE SHOULD DO?”

“Keep making snowballs, and when I say go, cover me as I go in for a sneak attack. Just keep throwing as many snowballs as possible. Try not to hit me on my way over,” you strategize.

Papyrus nods enthusiastically. “VERY WELL, NEW HUMAN FRIEND! WE WILL OVERWHELM THE ENEMY WHILE YOU BRAVELY CHARGE THEM FROM BEHIND!”

You put your phone away and help make more snowballs as your fort continues to be assaulted. The attacks die down a bit as they realize you aren’t responding. They’re just biding their time, you figure.

Once you have a good amount of them piled up, you peek over the wall and nearly catch a snowball with your eye. “Okay,” you breathe, excited. You start covering your sweater and pants with loose snow. Camouflage. “You both ready?”

“READY!” they shout in unison. You nod.

“GO!”

Papyrus and blue emerge, delivering the snowball assault of a lifetime. Red and Sans begin to fire back, though even they are a bit hesitant to peek up over their snow fort wall under the onslaught. You duck and weave your way through the trees, keeping your head down as you make your way to the opposing fort.

You round up behind them, only to find the two skeletons ready and waiting for you, dozens of snowballs floating in the air highlighted in red and in blue, ready to fire.

“thought your little sneak attack trick was gunna work, huh sweetheart?” Red grins.

You throw your hands in the air and grin right back. “Bold of you to assume that _I_ was the sneak attack.”

At your signal, the entire pine tree behind their fort shakes violently, all the heavy piled up snow falling off all over the both of them. It’s a much bigger pile than you thought it would be, and you burst out laughing as they’re completely buried.

Of _course_ you knew they’d hear your conversation with Paps and Blue, so you had texted Russ to shake out the tree once you got over here. You were the _distraction_ , his magic was the sneak attack. You can hear him chuckling over the commotion a few feet away.

Sans digs himself out first, groaning as he lies back. “i’ve got snow in my sockets,” he gripes.

Red digs himself out next, a big more grumbly as he tries to brush all the snow away from his clothes. “well, we got dunked on, sans. i guess we might’ve deserved that,” he hacks a miserable laugh.

“hey, red?”

“yeah?”

“this stuff got in _everywhere_.”

“same. i actually _feel cold_.”

“Well, maybe next time you ought to think twice about hitting a lady in the _back_ ,” you scold tauntingly.

“DINNER IS READY!” Crooks calls from the house.

You help them both out of the snow and then head back to the lodge, high-fiving Blue and Paps on the way.

Maybe Russ was right. That was actually a lot of fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get dunked on scrubs.


	25. Gyftmas at the Lodge: The Burrito.

“got somethin’ ta warm ya up, darlin’.”

You look at the red cup in Russ’ outstretched hand skeptically as you kick off your boots. “I didn’t even finish the second drink you gave me, now you’re offering me a _third_ one?”

“i’s barely a shot’s worth. give it a try,” he smirks.

Skeptical, but conscious of the fact that you’re still covered in snow, you take it from him and glance inside the cup. It’s red with a black swirl, and he’s right – there’s barely a mouthful in the cup at most. It smells strongly of cinnamon. Shrugging, you decide you’ve no reason _not_ to trust him, _yet_. _But_ , that if this _does_ end up being some kind of trick, you will _so_ kick his ass after the fact anyways. Secure in the mental image of tackling the beanstalk to the floor for his potential misdeeds, you down it in one go.

The spiced flavour hits you powerfully, like those cinnamon hearts you get around Valentine’s Day only ten times _worse_ , and it races through your entire body making your veins feel like they’re on _fire_. You gag as the taste of black licorice finishes off the drink, but then you yank at the collar of your ugly sweater as you’re suddenly too warm for it.

Then you realize your clothes are dry.

Looking down, you pat at your arms and chest, and they’re warm but dry, as if all the wet from the snow evaporated to steam. It certainly _seems_ like you’re in a cloud of hot vapour now that you think about it, your sweater beginning to stick to you as it picks some of the moisture back up. You jerk a couple steps out of the entryway to avoid the new sticky humidity.

You look up at Russ accusingly when you bump your back into him. “Let me guess; Magic, right?”

“got it in one,” he grins.

“Well… Thanks.”

* * *

 

 

Dinner was a cacophony of loud voices competing with each other that you had a hard time keeping up with. You didn’t fully acknowledge the lack of a dinner table that could seat all fourteen of you – you met another skeleton, G, who’d tried to steal a kiss from you in the hallway under the mistletoe, but you shut him down, and who didn’t seem to fit the Sans/Papyrus pattern you’ve already established – so everyone sort of scattered to their favourite parts of the massive lodge to eat at small tables or with their plates on their knees. The din of chaotic voices and conversations was starting to get to you, and you’re getting a headache between trying to keep track of what people were saying, and trying to keep Nora from eating off of your plate.

“You’ll get food at home!” you scold, pushing her back a bit. “ _Brat_.”

She gives you the saddest puppy face she can muster as she reaches her nose towards your turkey again, but you’ve built up an immunity.

Well, you reconsider, she can have _one_ small piece. You slice one off and slip it to her. It disappears as soon as she’s got it, practically swallowing it whole.

 _Most_ of an immunity. You smile and give her a pat.

Russ drops into the seat on the small couch next to you, reeking of that incense smoke you’ve noticed around him here and there. On his plate is a large burrito that is soggy and leaking a black sauce. That _really_ doesn’t seem like traditional Christmas fare, but who are you to judge his culture?

He offers you another red cup.

You push it back at him with a groan. “Russ, that would be like my _fourth_ drink today. I’m not super keen on getting _drunk_ at your family party,” you reject instantly.

His expression seems to fall a bit, but he shrugs. “y’ don’t seem like yer enjoyin’ yourself as much, darlin’. jus’ thought this might help ya loosen up some more,” he suggests. “’sides, you’ll need a drink fer a game we’re playin’ after dinner.”

Well, you _were_ pretty open book with Y/N and the others earlier after you’d finished your first drink, and you never got to taste much of the second. Still, you have a hard limit on alcohol intake. You’re about to decline again when you realize something.

How many of those cigarettes has he had today?

He had one in the morning, which he usually does every day, but then besides the occasional late night smoke in the shed he’s usually done after that. You start counting. Russ had a second one when you were chatting with the landlady, Stretch, and others, then a third when you were playing in the snow, and then he _definitely_ had one just now. The aura of smoke around him is _especially_ pungent, and you’re _so_ glad monster cigarettes don’t smell a thing like human ones.

Is he… Coping? Is _that_ his way of dealing with being here right now?

Is keeping you boozed up another way he’s trying to mentally check out right now? To keep himself preoccupied, _entertained_ even?

You already had a clue that this party was difficult for him to attend, although you don’t yet know the specific reasons why, but you did sign up to support him through it, even if you’re crap at social situations and _would_ rather be at home in bed with your dog, a tub of ice cream, your laptop, and RimWorld. But you agreed to chaperone him to this thing, so you ought to see it through.

Determined, you grab the cup from him and take a big swig. It’s the same as the second one you’d abandoned earlier, but fresh from the bottle and still absolutely delicious. Russ looks ever so mildly puzzled by that.

“Whatever this game is, I’ll kick it’s _ass_ ,” you boldly announce, stuffing your face with more turkey before you can say anything else dumb.

He chuckles as he lifts the soggy burrito from his plate, and you have to restrain a gag as it _drips_. “darlin’, i’d sure like t’ see it.”

“… Just let me hit the bathroom first,” you bargain.

You’re not sure if your stomach can handle all that food you just cleaned off your plate, _and_ the sight of Russ actually taking a bite of that burrito monstrosity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Fucking finally_. Been sitting on this chapter for a bit. Sorry for the delay, 2019 has been about as kind to me as the last two years combined so far.


	26. Gyftmas at the Lodge: Never Have I Ever.

“I literally don’t understand how you still have taste buds after that.”

“was one of m’lord’s better ones,” he shrugs.

“What the actual hell was _in_ that _burrito?!_ ”

“mushrooms, pineapple, green chiles… rocks.”

“… _Rocks!?_ ”

“t’ build up m’ fortitude. m’lord’s always thinkin’ ‘bout my health.”

“By feeding you _ROCKS!?_ ”

You yank open the front of his jacket and lift up his shirt before realizing that you don’t actually know _how_ to perform a Heimlich manouevre on a skeleton… Or if you even _can_.

“How do I… Where does it _go?_ ” you complain uselessly.

… _Shit_.

Your face gets hot as you realize you’ve basically half-undressed your tenant in the hallway.

… And he _completely_ just went ahead and let you do that, didn’t he. He’s grinning down at you. _Evil bastard man_.

Words leave you as you tug his shirt back down and start to storm off, nearly crashing into Red, who _of fucking course_ saw the whole thing.

“ _damn_. hey mutt, is your girlfriend single?” Red asks, grinning ear-hole to ear-hole.

“I’m not his girlfriend, I’m his landlady,” you swiftly correct, still filled with blistering heat – a combo of rage and flustered embarrassment. You basically just _sexually harassed_ your tenant at his family party. Good _gods_.

Red suddenly bursts out laughing, leaning against the wall next to him for support. He gives you a shaky shrug as he calms down. “hehe, same difference,” he cackles.

… Wait, _what?_

“Hey, _____!” Y/N catches you by the shoulder from basically nowhere, blushing slightly herself as she steers you away. “Have you seen the game room yet? We just got a new pool table in there and everything.”

This was how you got pulled into the drinking game. You recall that Russ might have mentioned a drinking game a few minutes ago.

Most of the skeletons are here already, each holding their own drinks as they stand around the sides of the room. The game room itself is rather spacious, and very warmly decorated, but with the addition of the pool table and fourteen bodies, it’s strictly standing room only.

You get sort of tossed about until you find a patch of floor to stand on between Edge and G. Edge scowls down at you, but you playfully stick your tongue out at him right back. He scoffs and takes a long drink of a dark black liquid from a wine glass. You honestly can’t tell if it’s supposed to be wine or something else.

“ARE WE READY??” Blue bounds into the room excitedly.

“yeah, bro. who do you think should go first?” Stretch encourages.

“WE’RE NOT SERIOUSLY PLAYING ‘NEVER HAVE I EVER’ _AGAIN_ ,” Edge growls out.

“you just don’t like it ‘cause your dirty laundry gets aired out the most,” Sans grins.

Meanwhile, Blue thinks for a second and then he points right at you.

“_____, I THINK _YOU_ SHOULD START US OFF!”

“WHAT A BRILLIANT IDEA!” Papyrus chimes in cheerily. “_____, WE WOULD BE DELIGHTED IF YOU WOULD HONOUR US WITH THE FIRST CHALLENGE IN ‘NEVER HAVE I EVER’.”

… Seriously? Now you’re not only tipsy, but completely put on the spot. At least your headache is ebbing a bit.

“Well, all right,” you grin. “Never have I ever left the house wearing my boyfriend’s underwear. Or girlfriend’s, whatever’s your thing,” you add.

A pall of silence hangs over the room, then a couple snickers erupt. No one drinks, though. You sigh and take a drink.

“WHAT- _____! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO ISSUE A ‘NEVER HAVE I EVER’ THAT YOU’VE ACTUALLY DONE YOURSELF!” Papyrus criticizes.

“I know, but I’ve asked that one a few times at parties and I’ve yet to find anyone else who’s done it besides me. Just looking for kinship,” you chuckle.

“since you’re the only one, i think that means you owe us a story,” Red smirks.

“It’s nothing really exciting – I was staying over at his place and the lazy shit wouldn’t help me find my underwear, so I went into his drawer and stole a pair of his,” you explain. “I wore a pair of badly fitting boxers to work for an eight hour shift. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as I thought it would be – the damn things kept bunching up,” you sigh.

Lust looks at you with a twinkle in his eye lights. You’re not sure if he’s impressed by your boldness or if he’s being lewd again.

“I SUPPOSE I AM NEXT, IF THERE IS ANY ORDER TO THIS INFERNAL GAME,” Edge barks next to you. “NEVER HAVE I EVER FALLEN ASLEEP WHILE ON GUARD DUTY, _SANS!_ ”

He hisses the last part as his brother Red seems to shrink a bit.

“heh, uh, you’re not supposed to name an’ shame here, boss,” he mutters.

But while Red drinks, so does Sans, Stretch, and Russ. Axe seems to go for a drink initially, but then he glances at his brother Crooks and pulls at his unlit eye socket in some anxious gesture instead. Edge looks at the other three culprits in disgust.

“YOU ALL HAVE _APPALLING_ WORK ETHIC!”

“is it my turn yet?” Red asks. Edge stares him down, but he nods, taking another long sip of his black boozy beverage as his brother collects himself. “okay. never have i ever… fired a gun.”

You take a drink and feel all eyes in the room on you. Looking up, you groan. “Just me again?”

“i think so,” Stretch agrees. “you owe us a story then, yeah?”

“I mean, which story do you _want?_ ” you say, trying to remember all the instances you can remember. “I’ve played both paintball and airsoft, though a lot more of the airsoft. And my cousin had a gun back when I lived in Ottawa. Honestly, none of them are all that interesting.”

“what’s airsoft?” Sans asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“Airsoft rifles are like these replicas of real guns, but they fire these plastic BBs and use either compressed CO2 or a battery-powered motor as the firing mechanism. It’s mostly safe – if you get hit you might bruise, and you have to wear eye protection or they won’t let you on the field. But because airsoft guns resemble real guns so much, _annnd_ because we _kinda_ painted over the tell-tale orange safety tips for our mil-sim games, it’s not exactly _super legal_. But it’s _super_ fun,” you add.

“what about your cousin’s gun?” Stretch presses. Russ gives him a look, but you’re not quite able to discern what it means.

“He brought it downstairs to show me once, and put it in my hands. I pointed it at the floor, pulled the trigger on it, but it wasn’t loaded. He had no ammo, and it wasn’t like he wanted me to _really_ fire it – he was just showing it to me.” You rub at your neck anxiously. “But, even though there was no danger or anything, that whole experience kind of wigged me out. I mean, it was the real deal. I held a real gun once, and I pulled the trigger.”

The room is still silent for a moment until Papyrus comes running at you. He actually does a cool slide across the pool table before toppling off the side of it, but he lands on his feet regardless and straightens before you, suddenly trapping you in a bearhug.

“NEW FRIEND! YOU SOUNDED SO DISTRAUGHT JUST NOW! WHAT TERRIBLE TRIALS MUST YOU HAVE ENDURED!” he bemoans. “ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

“I’m _fine_ , Papyrus, _geez_ ,” you say into his chest. “You almost spilled my drink!”

Honestly, you hadn’t even thought about it in years. After you calmed down the tall sympathetic Russ clone, he returned to his place in order as the game continues around the outside of the room.

You drank when Charm asked about kinks, but so did everybody else. You didn’t drink when Lust asked about specific ones, though. Y/N was the only one to do so, but everyone let her off the hook on explaining herself too easily. Blue asked about piercings, to which you drank and pointed out your earlobes, but denied having any anywhere else. Papyrus asked something innocent that you forgot shortly thereafter, drinking just because the stuff Russ gave you tastes delicious. Sans asked about tattoos, and you raised the glass to your lips to drink, but stopped and pointed at him with a wink, saying “Not _yet_.”

It finally came around to Stretch. “never have i ever hurt someone in a fight,” he challenges.

“everybody in this _room’s_ fuckin’ gunna drink to _that_ ,” Russ hisses to the hoodied skeleton.

“… point. i’ll try to narrow it down then – never have i ever, hmm… never have i ever thrown the first attack in a fight,” he clarifies.

You drink, and honestly are starting to feel kind of dunked on here. A couple others drink too – Edge, Red, Sans, and Axe in particular, so at least you’re spared from telling a story. Stretch eyes you suspiciously for a second before Red breaks the tension by chuckling.

“in my defense, ‘e ‘ad it comin’,” he rasps.

You point at him and nod understandingly. “Fuckin’ _same_ , my man.”

Russ excuses himself for another smoke, and for a moment you think to follow him, before you’re yanked back into the moment by Edge’s infuriated yelling right next to you.

“come on edge, drink up – you know the rules,” Sans grins, waggling his brow bones at him. He’s practically frothing at the mouth in irritation. “you’re also gunna have to tell us a story ‘bout it too, right?”

“I WILL _NOT!_ AND I _REFUSE_ TO CATER TO THESE _RIDICULOUS RUMOURS!_ ” he bellows.

“how is _tree-sama_ doing anyway?” Stretch chuckles.

“What the hell did I just miss?” you ask G discretely on your other side. “I zoned out for like a _second_ and now Edge is about to explode.”

G’s eye lights roll around in his cracked sockets as he chuckles. “it’s this thing they do – sometimes edge goes out into the woods to blow off steam by yelling a bunch, so they tease him that he’s gone off to see his girlfriend… who’s a tree.”

You glance around the room again as you try to get your bearings on the situation. Several skeletons are mocking him at all sides. Red’s staying quiet, but he’s chuckling into his sleeve. Y/N is across the room next to Sans, but she looks just as uncomfortable as you feel when you lock eyes with her.

A thought creeps into your head that this is kind of similar to how people treated you during the Drew chapter of your life.

“i mean, if anybody’s gettin’ _wood_ over this it’s-“

“ _HEY!!_ ”

The volume of your own voice surprises you, and so does the immediate end to all the jabs and laughing in the room as everyone falls silent. You stand in front of Edge and throw your arms out defensively.

“Just… Knock it off!” you slur, definitely feeling the effects that the magic-infused alcohol is having on you. “It’s not nice to tease him about something that’s not true! What’d _you_ think if someone did that to _you!? Huh?_ ”

Stretch and Sans seem slightly taken aback. Y/N seems to smile at you.

You turn around and fall against Edge in a sloppy protective hug. The skeleton is stock still as you snuggle into his ribcage. “It’s no fun bein’ teased about dating someone you’re not,” you assert.

There’s a tense moment where you belatedly realize that this tall emo dude could probably just fling you one-handed across the room, but instead he puts a hand on your back, in a barely-there reciprocation of your impromptu drunken hug.

Then he grips the back of your sweater and unceremoniously peels you off of him.

“I’M THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS,” he scoffs, sharp teeth grit in a stern expression. “I DON’T NEED ANYONE PROTECTING _ME!_ THAT’S _MY_ JOB AS CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD!”

Then he downs a long swig of his ebony monster wine and glances away from you, snorting derisively.

Somewhere deep down, you think that maybe he appreciated it.

No one says anything else on the matter as the game continues around the room. Russ comes back to step into order between you and G since he hasn’t had his turn yet, eyeing you and Edge suspiciously.

Y/N and Crooks have fairly innocent challenges you drink to, then its Axe’s turn. He looks over at Russ and grins.

“never have i ever fucked myself from another timeline,” he challenges.

Russ shrugs and drinks, and you notice Charm and Lust drink out of the corner of your periphery. Does Russ seem annoyed to get called out like that? You think he might be a bit peeved at Axe for that.

“no… bro, you can’t be serious,” Stretch bemoans.

Blue takes the cup away from his teeth, cheekbones dusted powder blue as he sneaks a sly glance at Lust, who winks at him. “… I WAS CURIOUS,” he admits sheepishly. Stretch covers his eyes and looks as if he wants to see what bleach works on magic eye sockets.

You distractedly go for a drink yourself, and Crooks gasps.

“_____! DID YOU-? HOW-”

You stop with the rim of the cup at your lips, then point and wink at him. “Just keeping you on your toes.”

Russ chuckles next to you.

G asks about playing music, and a surprising number of skeletons drink. You swish the alcohol around in the bottom of your cup, unhappy you don’t get to drink this turn.

Then it’s down to Russ. He eyes Axe sternly before putting his challenge forward.

“never have i ever… _eaten a human_.”

The temperature in the room drops as Crooks and Axe both drink. You’re still trying to put the pieces together though.

“Is that in like the naughty way?” you attempt to clarify.

Lust snorts as Y/N shakes her head across from you somberly. “No,” she sighs. “Axe and Crooks are sort of, uh, reformed cannibals,” she explains. Then she looks pointedly at Russ. “You’ve done that one before, you know.”

“i know,” he hums innocently.

“But… How does that _work?_ ” you ask, still trying to put the pieces together. “I heard somethin’ about monsters turning to dust when they die. How would you eat monsters? Make dust _soup??_ Oh wait you said humans. Well, that’s not _cannibalism_ then, not _really_.”

“… _what?_ ” Sans gawks.

“Cannibalism means eating your _own_ species, and while yeah monsters count as people too, you’re still made of like totally different stuff? So different enough to be a different species and stuff. So, calling Axe and Crooks cannibals just isn’t the right word.”

“… are you seriously justifying _cannibalism?_ ” Stretch chokes.

“No, I’m just explaining the word. Although, since they _could_ eat humans without getting prion disease it makes a sort of sense.” You notice in your periphery that Russ has left the room again. He just got back from a smoke, does he already want another? “Was like, food scarce or something?” you ask Axe and Crooks curiously.

Crooks looks anxiously at you wringing his gloved hands together, while Axe grins broadly and shrugs. “we lived somewhere _real cold_ , and the only thing we had to eat was idiot humans that took a wrong turn.”

You nod sagely, unperturbed. “That makes sense. Whenever I try to do the sea ice challenge in RimWorld – it’s this cool hardcore colony simulator game I play - I basically have to cannibalize any raiders that attack my base early on until I can get my hydroponics research up. You can’t grow shit in a patch of ice.”

“you… play a game where cannibalism’s a thing?” Axe blinks.

You nod. “I try to avoid playing it like that, but I mean it’s an option. And human leather is worth a lot. Oh hey! I’ve got to ask – Do we taste like pork? I’ve heard that we taste like pork.”

Before Axe can answer, Russ returns and shoves another cup into your hand. The liquid is clear and doesn’t smell like anything.

“Russ, I’m not even done my _last_ drink again,” you whine. “What’s this?”

“water,” he responds flatly. “you’ve ‘ad enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 2700 words because I couldn't bring myself to split it up :P
> 
> The sea ice challenge in RimWorld is where you start on the rich explorer story start (so you have only one colonist, but a lot of wealth and medicine and stuff) and you basically have to quickly build yourself a heated room and a research bench so you can research hydroponics before you run out of food. Your resources are very limited as there are no mountains to dig, basically no wildlife to hunt, and nothing grows there, ever. You basically have enough steel for a power source (wind turbine), a battery, a heater, and a hydroponics bench. The only way to get more steel/building materials is via ship chunk drops, drop pods, or caravans, all of which are fairly rare. The storytellers usually send a single raider at you a while into it, which you can kill easily and then eat if you're feeling desperate. Just for some context :P


	27. Gyftmas at the Lodge: The Gift.

You feel _incredibly_ awkward when it comes time for everyone to open their gifts for each other. But that’s par for the course for being a last-minute invite. And between Nora asleep across your lap, exhausted after a busy day filled with greeting new people, and Russ keeping you pinned to the couch with an arm around your shoulders (well, his arms are stretched along the back of the couch, and you just happened to be sitting there already), you kind of can’t move away anyways.

Also, that would be rude.

Plus, seeing the skeletons’ reactions to the gifts they got for each other is a good source of warm fuzzies after switching to water at Russ’ insistence. Everyone’s so happy with their gifts for each other, even if some of them don’t show it. Russ pulls a slender gift from inside his jacket when Black comes calling, wrapped in fancy gift paper with a shiny stuck-on bow. It looks about the size of a video game case.

Black takes a look at it and scoffs, folding his arms as he looms over his lounging brother. “ _WELL_ , WHILE I _ANTICIPATED_ YOU’D HAVE SOME MEAGRE OFFERING TO APPEASE ME, YOU DIDN’T TELL _ANYONE_ YOU WERE COMING TODAY, SO I HAVE NOTHING FOR YOU IN RETURN.”

… The way Black talks to Russ _really_ gets your hackles up.

“’s’okay, m’lord,” Russ shrugs, still offering the present.

Black snatches it out of his hand and quickly unwraps it. His eye sockets widen in the briefest moment of delight, much like Edge’s did at Red’s gift for him, but then he snaps back to huffing and scoffing like he’s just been offered a piece of trash in pretty wrapping paper.

“Actually,” you speak up meekly. “I got something for you, Russ.”

His brow bones perk up as he looks over at you in surprise. “y’ already got me socks, _____.”

You roll your eyes. “I mean besides the stupid socks.” You lean to the side and start to dig through your purse.

“It’s kind of a dumb joke gift, and I didn’t even wrap it, but,” you deflect, feeling all eyes on you. “I don’t know, I just thought you might get a kick out of it, with your whole ‘dog motif’ thing going on.”

You pull out a small brown paper bag and hand it to Russ.

Unsure of what to make of it, he takes it cautiously and brings his arm over your head, shaking the bag out with one hand into the palm of his other.

It’s a pair of dog tags.

As in, tags for a dog’s collar.

You rub at your neck anxiously as he inspects his gift. “Okay, so, the orange one with the QR code is actually Nora’s old one. I don’t know if you guys have the same ones here, but that one basically means that a dog’s had their rabies shot. So you know the dog’s vaccinated and not rabid, uh, ever. She had it when she was a puppy, so, it’s a little chewed on.”

Y/N is the first one to crack a chuckle.

“seems perfect for you, mutt,” Stretch comments with a smirk.

The other tag with it is a metal bone stained a burnt orange. You point to it in his hand. “That one I got engraved with your name, Russ, and I put my phone number and address on it, just in case you ever get, uh, lost, and need to find your way back home.”

There’s a part inside of you that’s absolutely _screaming_ , hoping that he doesn’t hate you for it. Who gets someone dog tags for their _dog collar_ for Christmas? For all you know you’ve either unknowingly contributed to some fetish, or gravely insulted him.

Russ’ orange eyelights scan the second tag as he flips it over to read the other side’s engraving. Then he smirks, and starts working them onto the metal ring on the dog collar you’ve rarely ever seen him without. He holds it out towards you with a thumb and a teasing look in his eyes. “how’s it lookin, darlin’?” he purrs.

“Oh, that’s perfect!” Y/N approves. “It looks really good on you, Rus!”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. “Well, I’m just glad you seem to like i-“

“HOW _DARE_ YOU.”

All heads turn to Black, who has just launched to his feet to glower at you for your apparent impudence.

Unlike the others, you’re not one to give in to the tiny dictator so easily.

“What’s the problem?” you ask, a note of challenge in your voice.

Red, still a bit sloshed from earlier, makes a soft “ooooo” at your tone, clearly picking up that you’re not playing kid games here.

Black flusters for a moment before continuing. “JUST- UGH! THIS _MONGREL_ DECIDES TO ROOM WITH _YOU_ FOR A COUPLE OF MONTHS, AND YOU THINK THAT SOMEHOW GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO _BRAND_ HIM?!”

“At least I actually _got_ him something for Christmas,” you fire back, moving Nora to one side and standing up. You’re barely an inch taller than him, but the height advantage and the fact that you’re nose-to-nasal passage gives him some pause. “Are you jealous you didn’t think of it yourself first or something?”

Russ is on his feet in an instant, ready to intervene.

“I DIDN’T GET HIM ANYTHING BECAUSE HE DOESN’T _DESERVE_ IT! HE HASN’T CHECKED IN IN OVER A _YEAR!_ ”

“He’s your _brother_ , you bothersome little _shit!_ What the hell kind of brother _are_ you to treat him like that?!”

“HE’S NOT WORTH IT!”

“ _Yes he is!_ ”

Russ’ hand is gripping your shoulder firmly, left eye flaring with orange smoke. You know you’ve crossed a line, but you’re too far gone now. You shrug him off and take a step towards him next, flailing a hand out at Black. “You deserve _better_ than that!”

It takes a moment for it to sink in that you’re somewhere else now. You didn’t even notice the trip through the void this time. This room’s cramped and a complete mess, with notes of formulas and torn posters pinned messily over the log cabin walls, and there’s an old mattress on the floor covered in storage boxes, pushed up against some balled up, dirty, burnt orange sheets.

Russ is standing in front of you.

“no,” he says grimly. “i don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit, meet fan.
> 
> I had this pre-written, and I couldn't really resist the temptation to get it out there tonight (thank you for all your lovely comments!!), plus I might have another one to follow it shortly after I re-read it again :D
> 
> This is what we're here for, folks. Why did Russ leave Black?


	28. Gyftmas at the Lodge: The Fight.

He turns to walk away, but you grab him by the jacket to stop him.

“get off,” he says, attempting to loosen your grip with a shrug.

“No.”

He whips around, startling you with just how _angry_ he looks. His left eye flares as he practically growls at you.

“you’ve got _some nerve_ talkin’ to m’lord like that,” he seethes. “i ain’t overly bothered by _dustin’ you on the spot._ ”

“But you didn’t, so I must be on to something,” you fire back.

His face tightens and you swear you can see actual creases forming in the bone around his nasal passage.

“you don’t _ever_ talk to ‘im or _about_ ‘im like that!” he snarls.

“He’s your _brother!_ You shouldn’t let your brother _treat_ you like that!”

“i’ll let ‘im treat me however he wants!”

“ _WHY?!_ ”

He grabs you roughly by the front of your sweater. Your back hits the hard wall behind you and you let out a small gasp from the impact.

“ **because _that’s_ how we _survived!_** ”

Russ seems surprised at himself for saying it. He lets you go and you slide down the wall. But when he turns away, you grab his jacket again.

“Don’t run away,” you insist in a firm, but gentler tone. “Talk to me.”

He freezes, his large body shuddering as he runs a long hand down his face. Finally, he turns around aggressively again, but walks past you and starts moving boxes off the bed. You follow his lead, picking up the heavy cardboard boxes and carefully moving them off the mattress to one side. Once it’s clear, he sits on the bed with his back leaned against the wall, and you sit on your knees in front of him. Before he says anything, he shakily takes out one of his black cigs and lights it with a lighter hidden away on a shelf behind the bed. After a couple puffs, he seems to calm down.

“sans got hurt ‘cause of me once,” he begins, tapping some ashes off the cigarette into a nearby mug with a broken off handle. “i was late pickin’ him up after school, an’ some monsters thought ‘e’d be easy pickin’s.”

He goes into more detail about the society he grew up in, how hopeless and bleak it was, and how violent that made the inhabitants. If you were weak, you were killed for strength – monsters have some system where if they kill another person, it makes them stronger with LV or EXP or something like it. Sans was frequently targeted for being smaller, and on that particular day Russ had been asleep when he was due to pick him up, which made him late.

“’ey’d beat him half to dust,” he notes grimly. “all ‘cause i was a selfish prick too lost in my own ‘ead who abandoned ‘im.” Russ traces two fingers over his left eye socket, not quite lining up with the pair of cracks he’s got. “those scars on ‘is skull are ‘cause of me. sans _has_ to be strong, an’ i have to be weak, ‘cause i’s the only way we’d make it out ‘f that shithole place we grew up in alive.”

“… But you’re not _there_ anymore.”

He takes a long puff of his cigarette before he chuckles dryly. “so? i’s our thing, i’s how we communicate. i’s how we survive.”

“What are you surviving now that you’re on the surface? It’s not necessary for you to let him treat you like _trash_.”

“i _am_ trash.”

“No you’re not. I don’t think you’re trash,” you insist.

“i’s been ‘bout a year since we last spoke. ‘e’s got a right t’ be upset with me.”

“And it’s been over _two_ years since you got out of there. If he really _does_ care like you say, then why haven’t you figured out a better way to talk to each other since then?”

“don’t need one.”

“Well, I still say you deserve better,” you huff.

He takes another long drag of his cig.

“you’re not winnin’ this crusade you’re on, darlin’. jus’ accept it an’ don’ let it rattle you so much.”

“… I can’t.”

You lean forward and give him a hug around his shoulders. He puts a hand on your back as he hears you sniffle into the collar of his coat, your body shuddering with the weight of a restrained sob.

Russ is confused more than anything. “… darlin’, why’re you-“

There’s a couple of quiet knocks on the door to the small room, and Russ looks at his cig, then snuffs it out inside the mug. The door opens and Y/N is standing there, smiling gently when she sees you hugging it out.

“_____, I was wondering if we could talk for a bit?” she offers gently.

You wipe at your face to try and look slightly more presentable, thoroughly embarrassed about how much you’ve trashed her Christmas party. “Yeah, sure,” you agree weakly.

You get off the bed and follow her down the hall, and Mutt slowly gets up to follow. In the hallway, he’s stopped by a familiar pair of deep indigo eye lights burning their way right through him.

Oh no.

How much did he hear?

“m’lord-“

Sans holds up a gloved hand. “JUST ANSWER ME ONE QUESTION, AND _SPARE ME_ THE _LIES_ ,” he glowers, eye lights piercing the darkness of the narrow cabin hallway. “IS THAT WHY YOU LEFT?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little bit shorter than I'd like, but I feel like it gets the point across.


End file.
